A Fallen Angel
by chibi Tenshi san
Summary: Severus Snape always thought that Harry Potter led a glamorous life. But he was proved wrong when all he found was a broken child. Sparks fly as he took him under his wing, bringing their relationship to a whole new level. Another Snape-meet-Dursleys stor
1. Snape's POV 01

Disclaimer: The usual.I dun own Harry Potter.*yadda yadda*.this is solely for entertainment purposes.yadda yadda.I'm but a poor student, so dun sue me.yadda yadda  
  
Author's notes: Hi pple! Okay, this is my first ever HP fanfic.so be lenient with me. This story sets right after GoF. This is kind of an abuse fic, not fit for people with weak hearts, or those oh-so-innocent types. Pple who disapproves of SLASH couplings better scram right now! Those that hate Severus Snape, get lost! Yar.that's about it.so enjoy the story pple. hope u like it.^.^;;;  
  
A Fallen Angel  
  
By chibi-tenshi  
  
Severus Snape stormed down the corridor with his robes billowing behind him as he muttered furiously to himself about the injustice of this all. Of all people in this damn place, why him? Just his luck to get stuck with such an unpleasant (no wait, scratch that, more like disgusting, horrendous and a total waste of his precious time) chore. He berated himself for what seemed like the thousandth time for not being able to say 'no' to Dumbledore. Damn Albus and his persuasive nature.  
  
Flashback  
  
"Gobstoppers," Snape particularly spat the gargoyle statue jumped aside, as if sensing the urgent tone behind the sneer. He started up the stairs even before the opening was fully revealed and practically leapt, two steps at a time, up to the headmaster's office, despite the fact that the elevator- like stairs would have gotten him up in no time at all even if he was standing stock still.  
  
The door to the room slid open as soon as he reached the top, as if anticipating his arrival. He started pacing around the office the moment he entered, catching his breath as he tried to sort out the information in his head, searching for a proper way to phrase it. The headmaster observed him patiently from his desk, the amused glint in his eyes betraying the solemn look on his face as he watched the flustered professor dig a hole into the carpet.  
  
Finally, Snape plonked down onto an armchair and opened his mouth to speak.only to shut it again, clearing his throat before attempting to articulate out the words once more. "As you can see, Headmaster, I have come back pretty much unscathed from my meeting with the Dark Lord." He watched as the Headmaster nodded, with a questioning look on his face, before continuing. "He had been rather pleased today, at least happy enough not to go through his usual round of torture, and for a good reason too."  
  
He paused, taking a deep breath, and dropped the bombshell: "He had found out where Harry Potter is currently residing at.and he is planning an full scale Death-eater attack at Pivet Drive on Sunday, which is three days away from now."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly, by just a hairline fraction not noticeable to an untrained eye. But the shocked expression disappeared just as quickly as it came, immediately replaced by a thoughtful and faraway look. Snape could almost hear the gears and screws turning in his head and sat back until he saw his face brighten and his wizened face light up, signifying the formation of one of the brilliant ideas he was famous for.  
  
As the Headmaster lifted his head to return his gaze, he instinctively shrunk away. He knew the look, that all too delighted and playful grin that was spreading across the old wizard's face. He moaned and buried his face in his hands, wishing that the ground would just open and swallow him up, dreading whatever devious plan he just knew the Headmaster had come up with, hoping against hope that he would play no part in it.  
  
Years in the Headmaster's company had thought him well. He had experience on how persistent the Headmaster could be. "Might as well get over with it," was his only thought as he finally raised his head to face Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore merely widened his oh-so-innocent smile when he caught his eye and started to brief him on his 'great plot'. "Now, now Severus, you look just like what Mrs. Norris did when the Weasley twins pushed her into that nice big bucket of water! No need to look so glum. I was just going to ask you to fetch Mr. Potter from 4 Pivet Drive to Hogwarts to ensure his safe." "WHAT?!" Snape exploded, interrupting Dumbledore's little 'speech'. "You want me to fetch Potter here? Are you nuts? Our enmity for each other is well known to all, even to the first-years! Have you forgotten that Potter and I can't stand 5 feet apart without arguing our voice hoarse and hexing one another to next week? Get Hagrid to go, or Minerva, or even Black! I'm sure they'll be just too willing to comply! I."  
  
"Severus, calm down. You know perfectly well that Hagrid, Sirius and Remus are away on a mission I sent them on. Minerva, Flitwick, as well as most of the staff had gone on their own holidays overseas. And you know one can hardly trust Trewanlry not to muddle up a mission as important as this. Professor Sprout needs to tend the gardens and Poppy isn't well versed enough in offensive magic. I would love to go there myself, but I have some ministry matter to attend to. That leaves you as the only person free for the job." At this, the Headmaster concluded his 'inspiring' speech by spreading his hands in a sweeping gesture and a 1000-watt smile.  
  
Snape let out a long, suffering sigh, knowing that there was no escape from what fate, or rather Dumbledore, had arranged for him. The Headmaster seemed to be enjoying Snape's inner turmoil, knowing full well that he did not look forward to seeing his archenemy's son. At this thought, his face softened a little, looking at Snape with something akin to pity ("Must be a trick of the light," Snape mumbled) before saying lightly that he should give Harry a chance and stop treating him and James as the as person.  
  
"Yes, Albus," was all Snape managed to force out before sweeping out of the office and making his way towards Hogsmeade to prepare for apparition.  
  
End flashback  
  
Cursing with almost every language he knew (which was quite a lot), he shrugged out of his robes on his way through the Great Hall and carefully folded it before shrinking it and placing it into his jeans pocket. By now, he had reached the entrance to Hogsmeade, just beyond the edge of the anti-apparition zone. With a small pop, he disappeared from the streets.  
  
**************************************************************************** ** End of Chapter  
  
So.how was it? Loved it? Hated it? Want more? Review PLEASE!!! 


	2. Snape's POV 02

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, although I would definitely love to *swoons*! (He rox!) Anyway, HP belongs to JKR and whomever she wants to give it to. Conclusion...don't sue me, I am but a poor student, you'll be wasting your money...  
  
Author's Notes: Oooooohhhh I LOVE you people!!! I am sooooo glad you liked the story! I wasn't planning to upload this till a little later, but I couldn't bear to disappoint you ^o^. Oh, and warnings again...this is a SLASH fic, an m/m pairing, if you don't like it, leave. There are no hints of abuse yet, for this chapter, but there will be soon, so if you don't want to read it, don't say I didn't warn you. And this is Severus/Harry pairing, if this revolts you, you'd better leave too.  
  
Key: /italics/  
  
And thank you for those that reviewed ^.^...  
  
velondra  
  
kat  
  
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and this anonymous person that didn't leave a name  
  
You people are the best!!! So I shall post this second chapter as a tribute to you all! ^.~  
  
Now, on with story...  
  
A Fallen Angel  
  
By chibi-tenshi  
  
With a small pop, he disappeared from the streets, only to reappear at the end of Pivet Drive a split second later. He purposefully advanced down the street, unaware of the appreciative stares he was getting from some of the womenfolk as he focused on he main goal: "to get Potter out of here as soon as possible so that he can resume his Potter-free holiday in peace".  
  
His ever-stoic face twisted into a sneer as he set his sights on a perfectly normal two-storey house with its perfectly normal garage and a perfectly normal garden surrounded by a perfectly normal picket fence. "How quaint," he scoffed inwardly as he proceeded to march up to the door and pressed the doorbell. A loud "Ding-dong" resounded through the whole house. Tapping his foot impatiently on the pavement, Snape waited, for a minute, and then some, getting more and more irritated as the time crawled by. Fully scowling by now, he lifted his pale, slender hand in preparation to ring the doorbell again..when the door opened with such force that he was surprised that it did not come off its hinges.  
  
Now blocking the doorway stood a huge block of fat of a man that was still wearing a blue-striped shirt with a clashing bright red tie and a pair of polyester pants, showing that he had probably just got home from work. At six feet two, with a huge bulk, a pair of piggy eyes (that type that looks half shut because of the fats surrounding it), a double chin and absolutely no neck, he seem a tall, fat and, on the overall, imposing figure, that is, if the person he was trying to intimidate wasn't Snape. Snape merely glared scornfully at his girth, lips curled up in disgust as his 'piggyness'.  
  
"Good evening. You would be Mr. Vernon Dursley?" he asked politely, though his tone was clearly dripping with disdain.  
  
"Um...yes, and you are?" asked Vernon, clearly flustered that he was unable to daunt this stranger.  
  
"My name is Severus Snape. I am the potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am sent here to check on Mr. Harry Potter. If you could so kindly get him..."  
  
"Y-y-you are one of those freaks! Get out of here this instance! I do not..." Vernon's voice started to escalate at the shock of seeing 'one of them'.  
  
"Vernon, are you alright out there? Dinner's ready. Get that salesman to leave," came a woman's voice as she emerged into the living room with a whale of a boy trailing behind her.  
  
The woman was the total opposite of Vernon. Horse-faced and bony, with twice the amount of neck, combined with the screeching tone in her voice and hey presto! A real life banshee! Her short gray skirt further emphasized her bony legs and the white apron was tied so tightly around her that it looked like it was choking her. Not a pretty picture.  
  
The boy hiding behind her, or rather, trying to hide behind her, was the worst of the lot. Wider than he was tall, he looked as if he could fill up the whole row of back passengers sits in an average sized car. He would most likely have no problem squashing both Vernon and the woman with no problem at all. He vaguely resembled a sumo wrestler Snape had seen in a book once, except that he is a lot fatter. He was wearing a black t-shirt over a pair of suffocating looking jeans. All in all, a disgusting picture.  
  
"Petunia, take Dudley back to the kitchen. It's one of them," Vernon ordered as soon as he regained his composure.  
  
Snape arched an elegant eyebrow, surprised at this display. It is not like they have never seen wizards before, hell, Harry himself was one, so why all the fuss. Deciding that perhaps Vernon didn't catch what he had said, he repeated his 'request' with a sarcastic drawl, "Excuse me, I believe you did not catch me just now. Could you please get Mr. Potter down right now?"  
  
At this, Vernon exploded, "There is no one that goes by the name of Potter here! I do NOT tolerate your kind of abnormality under my roof! Now GET OUT before I call the police!"  
  
"Now, I believe this is the Dursley household, and Albus did specifically told me that Potter is residing here. So, you better /not/ try testing my patience and I am already annoyed as it is! You better get Potter down right this instance before I do something that you'll regret." All this was said in a deathly quiet tone that all students in Hogwarts had learnt to recognize, the tone that spelt 'trouble' with a capital T. Of course, Vernon, being the idiot oaf he was took no notice in his tone and firmly refused to admit about Harry's presence in the house.  
  
"Fine, then you leave me with no choice. /Perificus Totalus!/" With that, Vernon fell in an ungraceful heap on the floor. Snape turned towards the rest of the Dursleys, who were cowering at a corner, and pointed his wand threateningly at them. "Make any noise or any move and you will end up like him." This caused them to further retreat into the corner.  
  
Satisfied with the result, Snape finally took his first look around the room, absorbing in what he saw, and what he /didn't/ see disturbed him. There was no evidence that the Boy-Who-Lived was living here. There were tons and tons of pictures of Dudley, on the mantelpiece and hanging from the walls. Pictures of Dudley as a kid at the beach building sand castle, at the amusement parks on kiddy rides, at the zoo with the animals...  
  
Shaking his head, he tried to clear his head, refusing to admit that he was concerned about Harry Potter. "There must be his pictures in other rooms," he reasoned with himself as he stormed up the stairs. "I do not care about Potter. He is another spoiled brat that needs to be put in his place!"  
  
He reached for the door at the far left-hand side. It opened to show a lavishly decorated bedroom with a nice big king-sized bed sitting right in the middle, with a lovely antique dress table covered with all sort of make- up and face and hair products. A big wardrobe, with fine, delicate patterns carved into the wood, was standing next to a door that probably led to a bathroom. "The master bedroom. Quaint."  
  
The second door on the left opened to what looked like a war zone. Toys, games, shirts, pants.all scattered around the room with careless abandon. A huge queen-sized bed set in the middle of the disarray, quilt unfolded, sheets rumpled, pillows strewn elsewhere... "Must be that boy's room. Dummy, Dudly or something..."  
  
The last door on the right. "Potter's room," he smirked. "I wonder how it would look like." His smirk faded soon enough though, as he got nearer and nearer to the door. He could feel it, the cold, clammy feeling. The room positively radiated pain, torture, despair, hopelessness, depression, bleakness.and /death/. He shivered unconsciously. He had not felt this since the initial fall of Voldemort. He most certainly wasn't prepared to face with this...this dreariness here...  
  
As he reached out for the doorknob and pushed, he noticed several things. One: the door wasn't budging. Two: there are locks and bolts on the door, at least four of each. Three: he didn't have the keys to unlock the door. And finally, four: he was a wizard, he had a wand, he knew the unlocking charm.  
  
Pulling out his wand again from his robes, he pointed at the door and whispered, "/Alohamora/" Several clicks and squeaks later, the door was free from its restrains. He pushed it open, took a step inside and...  
  
**************************************************************************** ************** End of Chapter  
  
Bwahahahaha! A cliffie! (sort of, since you should have guessed what's going to happen next by now) So...how was it? I personally think this is better than the first chapter *grinz*. Anyway the more people who review, the faster I'll finish the next chapter ^.^ So click the little "go" button below and type in something. ^.~ 


	3. Snape's POV 03

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own HP, which is kind of sad really. I wonder if wishing upon a shooting star really works? *lol* Not that there are any shooting stars in Singapore though. Maybe JKR would give me HP for my birthday present. *grinz* For now, HP still belongs to JKR and however she sees fit and the only thing I own is the plot I guess, though it's not too original in the first place. *sighz*

**Author's Notes**: To put you all out of misery, I've decided to post a new chapter ^.^ but, due to inevitable circumstances, this will be the last time I'm updating for a long, long time. The dreaded exams are starting in three weeks *damn*. I'm planning to start mugging soon. My mum would kill me if I flunk them. I can already imagine her screaming at me and banning me from the computer for a month. Now, we won't want that would we? I would probably resume my update-everyday pace after mid October, when my finals end.

Alright, enough with the depressing stuff. I must again warn you people that this is an abuse fic, and there will be hints of abuse and /rape/ in this chapter, though it isn't coated too strongly. I encourage people who are against this to scram now, before we all regret it. Also, this is SLASH, a _gay_ relationship, Severus/Harry in fact, so get lost if this disgusts you.

And, oh my _god_! 34 reviewers!!! Thanks a lot you guys! ^.^...

Melinda

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moonstar – About the mentor thingy, I was thinking about a progressive development of their relationship. Anyway, I bet you'll love this chapter, coz Sevvie's starting to think about Harry in _that_ way ^.^  
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Louise -- *rises eyebrows* three times? *squeals* I'm glad you loved my fic so much *hugz*

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Death – that's sad…why don't you go and read something else and _stop_ wasting your time here? I'm sure there are thousands of more original stories out there (you could look at my list of fav. authors if you want to, they are all really good…), so scram!

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I _love_ you peeps!!! *coos* This chapter is for you…

**A Fallen Angel**

By chibi-tenshi

He pushed it open, took a step inside and was unable to suppress a gasp. And he thought just now was bad. Without the door as a barrier, the undiluted desolation hit him at full force. What's worse was that the room reeked of sweat, blood…and ("Good Merlin!") stale sex. He involuntarily took a step back to prevent himself from falling over. Steeling himself, he forced himself to enter the room. 

The very first thing that caught his eye was some sort of a rack beside him, to his left. What shocked him was what the rack held. Belts of all shapes and sizes were laid out neatly next to each other, about six or seven in all. Leather belts, aluminum belts, polythene belts… (you name it, we've got it!) Some of the lighter colored ones were dyed brown, others red. Upon closer inspection, he found it to be blood, at varying stages of dryness. The belts were laid out on the rack the way trophies were in a glass shelf.

Feeling sick at the sight, Snape turned away, only to meet with something more horrendous. At the right-hand corner stood a single table. On the table were all kinds of sex toys available to humankind, and all of them looked used, covered with blood and cum. He shut his eyes, not able to take it any more. "Concentrate! You are supposed to be looking for Potter!" he berated himself.

Looking around the room, he caught sight of the windows, barred with metal bars. The gaps in between were so tiny that mice can barely pass through. ("That explains the dimness.") A small bed stood in the middle of the room, empty. Scanning through the room, Snape found no more offensive objects. "At least it can't get any worse," he mused. Now, as we all know, when we say that things cannot get any worse, they always do.

Something to his right stirred, a slight shuffling sound came from the bed. "I thought that it was empty?" Snape murmured to himself, as he edged nearer to the bed to take a closer look. Squinting through the darkness (A/N night has fallen), he made out a slight hump on the bed. It was so small that he had to wonder if he had imagined it. "_Lumos!_" he whispered as he remembered his wand. And dim light filled the room (or rather, the torture chamber as Snape had came to name it), just enough for him to see without blinding him.

What he saw made him gasp. On the bed laid a boy. He was stripped naked. Manacles were cuffed around his wrist and connected to the bedpost. He was breathing, but just barely, and was shivering in the cold night air. He looked malnourished, with his slight build and his ribs protruding against his skin. His body was covered with bruises of all colors, yellow, purple, blue-black…all starkly contrasting with his pale skin. His raven-black hair was bringing out his pallid complexion.

            "Wait a minute…_raven-black_ hair?" Just then, the face that was facing in the opposite direction slowly turned over. Emerald eyes met coal-black ones. Snape drew a long stuttering breath at the sight of the eyes. Those eyes, which were once ignited by an invisible fire, which once sparkled with great intensity, were now cold and dull. It was empty, no emotions whatsoever. It was like staring into a deep dark Abyss. The boy on the bed was merely a shell without a soul, his spirit confined deep with his mind, walls carefully built to prevent himself from further hurting. 

He could feel his wish for death, his plead to free him from this torture. He had never seen one so broken before, _never_, despite his many years serving the Dark Lord. Though the Dark Lord dealt out punishment without mercy, not even he was this cruel.

            He reached out to the boy, only to see him flinch away from his touch. His anger grew as he saw this. No kid deserved such treatment, especially not the Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy-Who-Saved-The-Wizarding-World tons and tons of times without a single complaint! Not this gentle, caring, considerate boy! 

He was surprised as he felt a solitary tear run past his cheek, the first time he had cried in more than twenty years! And he wasn't crying for himself, no, he was crying for the boy that laid prone in front for him. As much as he loathed to admit it, he felt sorry for Po-…, no, Harry. The boy had enough on his hands as it is, and he had this abuse to add to the list. 

He was began to regret all he had done to him, the years of taunting, scolding, detentions…just to put him in his place because he thought he was pampered by those relatives of his. But, oh, how wrong he was! This reality was far from what he had imagined. 

He recalled the way Harry acted around people, how he flinched when someone so much as touched him, how he seldom talked to anyone besides his two sidekicks, how he came back to school every year all skin and bones, how he never complained about his injuries after his debuts with Voldemort, how he…all this bits and pieces of information that he had waved off as insignificant before came flooding back to him, fitting perfectly into place, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

How long ago had this bout of exploitation started? How could the Dursleys be doing this to a mere child? At this thought, his anger flared up again, this time redirected at the Durlseys. He raged down the storm menacingly, causing Petunia and Dudley to shrink back at his wrath, shivering with fright as their eyes flicking around the room, desperately searching for an escape route. 

Snape took a deep breath in an effort to quell his rising temper, and spoke, "Bring me Potter's belongings and make it snappy!" Petunia and Dudley just glanced at each other, indicating for the other to speak, as if they were afraid that their answer would further annoy the already pissed off wizard. "Well? I'm waiting………" Fully aware that the wizard's getting angrier and angrier at every passing second, Petunia finally gathered up her courage to speak, "Vernon made him burn everything once we got home from the train station. We will not stand for anything abnormal in our house!" The defiant tone was present in her voice as it slowly escalated in pitch.

Snape, struggling to keep his temper in check, raised his wand and stunned the two trembling idiots. "I'll deal with the three of you later," he whispered in that velvety, yet deadly, soft voice of his before gliding up the stairs again, rather pleased at the effect the scare factor in his voice had on the muggles.

He entered the room once more, and turned toward Harry, again resisting the urge to puke there and then. Their eyes met. Is it just him, or had his eyes recovered some of their previous shine? Shaking off that thought, he used the _Alohamora_ spell to unlock the chains round the boy's wrists as he moved nearer to him to allow him into a position whereby he could lift the boy up with relative ease.

Just then, a loose floorboard creaked below his right foot, wobbling dangerously as it threatened to dislodge itself. "Curious." He bent down to pry it open, and uncovered a relatively large hole beneath it. Reaching in, his hand came into contact with some soft, silky material. Using both his hands, he pulled out everything he could find in the hidey-hole, and found himself with some kind of light, silvery cloak ("Potter's invisibility cloak"), a thin photo album, and a stick of about 11 inches ("Must be his wand"). "Looks like he isn't as dense as I thought he was," Snape mused inwardly.

He shrank the wand and the photo album with a flick of his wand, put them into his breast pocket and proceeded to cover Harry's state of undress with the invisibility cloak. He then lifted him up carefully as one would hold up a newborn baby, afraid that any sudden movement may jar the fragile boy and cause him even more pain. He was surprised at how unnaturally light Harry was, the weight in his hand seeming to be almost inexistent. The boy recoiled from his touch yet again. It was only after a while, when Snape made no attempt to harm him, that he gradually began to relax into embrace, eyes slowly closing as a soft sigh sounded from his lips, as if strangely content despite his traumatic experiences.

Snape had to stop a soft smile from gracing his lips when he saw this display of innocence and trust. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small button. "Hogwarts," he whispered, afraid to wake the sleeping child. With a familiar jerk at the bottom of his navel, he disappeared from 4 Pivet Drive and reappeared at the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

As he pulled the cloak off the boy's head to check if he was all right, he found that he had fainted on the way and was currently dead to the world. Worried that the blood lost and injuries had gotten into the boy and was resulting in his state of unconsciousness, he went into action.

Using the _Sonorous_ charm, he called out, "Albus, Pomfrey! I'm afraid we have an emergency in our hands! Come to the Hospital Wing immediately! _Quietus_." Rushing up the stairs as fast as he could without shaking up the boy in his arms too badly, he reached the Hospital Wing in a record time. Both the Headmaster and the school nurse were already there, Albus appearing to have this ability to apparate around the school though it was not supposed to be possible, and Pomfrey because she was in her room, just beside the infirmary, when she heard Snape's voice booming through the hallways.

Dumbledore looked worried as he drank in Snape's demeanor. Snape _never_ looks flustered unless something seriously bad was going on. He looked like he was carrying an invisible bundle in his arms, leaning down towards a bed and set something onto it, only that there was nothing there. As if sensing Dumbledore's questioning look, Snape pulled the cloak off Harry's head, revealing his bruised, battered face.

The sight elicited gasps from both Dumbledore and Pomfrey as they looked sickened at the scene before them. Then, with a snap from Snape for them to _do_ something, Pomfrey clicked into her nurse mode and began checking over Harry's injuries.

"Bruising on 95.7% of his body, three broken ribs, punctured left lung, severe malnutrition, influenza rapidly worsening into pneumonia, loss of 12.9% of blood, developing of stomach ulcer," Pomfrey muttered to herself. "Most of the scars are too old to heal…………and………….oh my _god!_ How could they do this to a child?!" "What is it?" the Headmaster asked sharply. "Th-th-they _raped_ him!" she choked out, her eyes flooded with tears.

Dumbledore's eyes widened at this, as in really widened, definitely portraying his shock as he buried his head into his hands, yet another uncharacteristic action. His shoulders were slumped in defeat and you could almost hear him berating himself for leaving Harry to his own devices with his abominable excuses for relatives. 

Even Snape, who had already guessed this from before, looked taken aback at this confirmation as he slowly sank into a chair beside the bed.

The ward was eerily silent, except for the shuffling around of Pomfrey as she worked diligently on her patient. With the injuries he had, it was a wonder he had survived. After loads of healing spells and numbness potions carefully administered to the injured child, she finally got his condition to more or less stabilize and almost collapsed in exhaustion subsequent to the one whole day of hard work. 

As the Headmaster and the Nurse retired for the night, Snape firmly refused to leave the boy, opting to keep in vigil by his side after he saw the boy thrashing about his bed when he so much as stepped out of the room. He had also felt Harry desperately clutch at his shirt when he tried to put the boy on the bed earlier on, as if refusing to leave a perfectly safe sanctuary. 

He tried to convince himself that he was staying here because he did not want Harry to further wound himself from his thrashing, not because he cared for the boy and wanted to comfort him with his presence. Resolutely chanting his mantra ("I do _not_ care about Ha-no! Potter!"), he waited patiently for the child to awake, though his chant was frequently interrupted by thoughts like: "He looks so innocent just lying there, like a lovely angel from heaven…" or "He looks enchanting even with those bruises in his face…", before he brushed away these unwanted thoughts and continued with his "I _don't_ care for Potter damn it!" speech.

The Headmaster had come to visit twice, once to tell him that the muggles in Pivet Drive had been evacuated to protect them from Voldemort's pre-planned massacre, and once more to inform him that the Dursleys had been taken into custody by the Child Protection Council and are pending for trial.

Pomfrey checked in regularly, about three times a day to examine Harry's condition (taking his temperature, checking on his fever, making sure the wounds are healing properly and that the bones are set correctly, ensuring that his condition had not taken a turn for the worse, etc), as well as to make sure that Snape actually ate.

Finally, about a full week later, Snape woke up in the morning to see emerald green eyes staring at him………

***

_End of Chapter_

Wow! This is the longest chapter I have! 2000++ words! It's almost twice as long as the rest of the chapters! *insane cackle* Ah well, treat it as an apology from me for not being able to update for a while. I _promise_ I'll come back once the exams end ^.^ I've already got the next few chapters planned out………

This is the nicest chapter isn't it? Yeah well, I'm a major sadist, so sue me. No don't, I was just joking, you will never get any money from me, I'm totally broke for this whole month. Why else am I sitting in front of a computer with nothing better to do *sighz*. Anyhow, I really do hope you liked this chapter. In fact, to show how much you appreciated it, please **_REVIEW_**!!! I'm a sucker for compliments *laughs*


	4. Harry's POV 01

Disclaimer: Ok…I'm too lazy to rethink some new ways of writing my disclaimers, so I'm going to copy it off one chapter or another and paste it here: I still don't own HP, which is kind of sad really. I wonder if wishing upon a shooting star really works? *lol* Not that there are any shooting stars in Singapore though. Maybe JKR would give me HP for my birthday present. *grinz* For now, HP still belongs to JKR and however she sees fit and the only thing I own is the plot I guess, though it's not too original in the first place. *sighz*

Author's Notes: Bwahahahahaha!!! My exams are finally over and I'm back with a vengeance!

Okay, warnings first…this is SLASH! Meaning male/male relationships for the denser people who have no idea. So, if you are against it, scram! Go off…shoo! By the way, it's a Severus/Harry pairing. I know lots of people against this…my friends for example…so if you can't take it, I suggest you take your leave. Oh…and there are some abuse and rape scenes, though not in here, and a _lot _of angst, mainly because I'm a major sadist…so…if you don't like this…hey, the 'back' button is just up there!

Oh, and those people complaining about the cliffhanger on chapter 3 L…I'm sorry…I wasn't planning it as one, well, not a normal cliffy anyway…coz I'm only going to continue from that point _after _I've finished Harry's POV on the whole abuse thingy, and I believe it would take up at least five chapters…so…patience is a virtue…sorry again ^.^'''

'thoughts/echoes'…"speech"

Also, I would like to thank all my lovely reviewers!!! ^.^ 49 in total!!! Wow! I love you people…(P.S. I suppose you won't appreciate me clogging up the whole page with names…so I won't type them all out J)

All right then…on with the show…

A Fallen Angel

By chibi-tenshi

Dream 

            **It was cold………dark... Tendrils of mist reached out for him, tenderly caressing his face. A gentle breeze blew by him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. He shivered. This place was positively radiating evil. **

**            "Did anyone tell _you _that the Cup was a Portkey?" He jumped at the voice as it pierced through the silence. As the mist cleared a little, he could make out a tombstone in front of him. It was a graveyard. He turned, full of trepidation, and laid his eyes on the figure beside him, more specifically, the figure of one Cedric Diggory.**

**            He widened his eyes in alarm, or at least tried to, since his body wasn't listening to him at this moment. His fear deepened when he heard himself reply…**

**            'No! This isn't happening! Not again!' He attempted to close his eyes but failed miserably. He heard himself answering, "Nope. Is this supposed to be part of the task?"**

**            "I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?" "Yeah," came his reply.**

**            Squinting tensely through the eerie darkness, he could see a figure steadily drawing nearer…a figure wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over its head to obscure its face…a figure holding a small bundle of _something_…**

**            He felt his stomach clench, his insides twisting in a nauseating manner as what was happening finally dawned upon him.**

**He was forced to watch the third task replay in front of him. He saw Peter Pettigrew approach them, cradling Voldemort in his arms. "_Kill the spare_!" Voldemort's high-pitched voice resounded through the graveyard. _'the spare………the spare………kill the spare………'_**

**            'No-no-no! _Please _stop it! _Please_!' Harry screamed out in his mind, wanting to move, to jump in front of Cedric, to save him from what he _knew_ was coming next. **

**"_Avada Kedavra_!" Voldemort's cackle filled the air, mingling with Peter's trembling voice, leaving a bitter aftertaste.**

Cedric's lifeless body slumped down onto the ground, his unmoving eyes staring straight up at Harry. 'No! Cedric! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!' Harry, finding that he could move, collapsed onto the ground and buried his face in his hands, repeating his mantra. 'I'm sorry! I didn't mean to let you die! I'm so sorry!'

**As he was choking on his tears, the scene changed. "It's all your fault! You killed me!" Harry lifted up his head, only to be met with Cedric's dull, dead eyes. "You killed me Harry………you brought me to You-Know-Who! You murderer!" "I'm sorry Cedric! I didn't mean to!" "You think apologizing could salvage this situation? You _killed_ me Harry! You destroyed my entire life and it's _All. Your. Fault_!" "It's all my fault! I killed you. It's all my fault………" His entire body was shaking now, wrecked with uncontrollable sobs.**

**More shapeless figures started to materialize around them, eventually taking the form of people Harry knew: Cho, Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, the Diggorys, the Dursleys, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sirius, Lupin, his parents………, each with a deadened look on its face, chanting the same phrase over and over again in perfect unison. "_It's ALL your fault_!"**

**"No-no! It's all my fault-all my _fault_!"**

End of dream 

            His eyes opened as he awoke with a jerk, his t-shirt drenched in cold sweat. He was panting, near hyperventilating, his heartbeat abnormally high as he rolled his body into a ball, clutching his legs as he began to weep violently, albeit softly, not wanting to alert Pomfrey about his current state of distress.

It was at times like this when he was thankful that he had coached himself not to scream from nightmares since young, after an especially painful beating for disturbing the Dursleys' peaceful slumber.

            When his sobbing finally subsided, he sat up reaching for his glasses and wand from the bedside table. He charmed the bed sheets dry before retreating into the bathroom to make himself more presentable.

            He was moving back into the Gryffindor Tower this evening. He was not particularly looking forward to it. In fact, he was dreading being bombarded with questioning gazes and queries about his recent misfortune. Still, it was better than being cooped up in the Hospital Wing all day long, with nothing better to do, nothing better to distract him from the vivid flashbacks of the graveyard happenings.

            It was still early. The full moon giving off an eerie luminance, making the shadows more pronounced as they dwelled about the dark recesses of the room. He laid back on the bed, staring at a small crack in the otherwise perfect ceiling, and soon got lost in his thoughts.

            He could still remember the meeting with the Diggorys yesterday. It was…painful, for the lack of a better word. They were distraught about the death of the sole son, their pride and joy, Cedric Diggory. It _hurt_ to witness their grief, their anguish… , to know that he brought about this, that _he_ was the reason why Cedric died. It hurt to know that it was all his fault, and that there was nothing he could do to remedy it.

            The memory of the dream…no, nightmare… was still deeply imprinted in his mind. He had never dreamed about the Third Task before today, preferring to mull over it in the morning. Of course, it may also be due to the fact that he had just been taken off his daily (nightly?) _Dreamless Sleep Potion_ prescription the day before. Still, it had managed to further confirm his theory that it was entirely his fault, that everything bad that had happened so far occurred because _he_ survived all of it again and again. It was Fate's way of taunting him, to tell him not to get too conceited, to make sure he knew that he never had any say in his life and probably never will. 

            How often had he wished that he were killed along with his parents at the fateful Halloween night, that he had never been born, that the Great Harry Potter, the legendary Boy-Who-Lived never existed?  He imagined that the world would have been a better place, whereby people would not need to look out for him, to _die_ because of him. Sometimes…sometimes, he just wished that he could end it all…all this pain, this torturous existence…

            But he knew he deserved this…he deserved to suffer for all that he had done, to right all the wrong he brought about, to atone for all the deaths he caused…

            It was all his fault………and he knew it…

***

TBC

All right…I know this is sucky…I'm sorry…I think my writing skills are deteriorating so fast that it is near impaired now. *sighz* This is far by the most horrible chapter I've written yet, and I really hope that there will be no repeat performance. Oh well…what do you think? Review please! I need lots of them to boost my confidence, considering that I'm expecting to fail like half of my final papers…*haiz*


	5. Harry's POV 02

**Author's notes:** Right, yet another chapter out…my longest chapter yet. Yes, I do realize that a lot of the content in here is kind of lifted up from GoF…yah…SPOILER ALERT!

OK…I'm been reading some of the reviews, and I noticed that some of you are a bit confused about what's happening and the timeline of the story…so, I'm clearing it up a little now…

For the first three chapters, they're kind of in Sev's POV, about a week or so into the summer holidays after the GoF, between fourth and fifth year. They show how the abuse fiasco was uncovered, and Sev's regret on not treat Harry properly, etc etc. It kind of provides a basis for the relationship development between the two.

The previous chapter, as well as the few chapters after that, is mostly in Harry's POV. They take place near the end of fourth year and continue on through the holidays until when Sev comes to 'rescue him from the clutches of the evil villians'. They would show how Harry's mentality deteriorates with the nightmares and the added abuse. I'm going to make him sort of link to Voldie too, so he has visions on what Voldie's doing, like the killing and torturing etc, to make him more depressed 'cause he's so guilt-ridden. They would also show about previous abuses through flashbacks and stuff, so we know what happened to make him so quiet, with this sad air around him and everything.

The two POVs would merge after a while, at the point where Harry wakes up and finds Sev asleep across from him. It'll become more general, and other characters like Sirius, Remus, etc would come in and try help Harry, though the whole fic mostly revolves around SS/HP.

Right, I hope that cleared whatever questions there are, feel free to voice out more…

Oh…and thanks for all those that reviewed…about 15 of them…less than half the number for the previous few chapters. *pouts* Ah well, that chapter sucked anyway…

So…read and enjoy and remember to review!!!

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**A Fallen Angel**

By chibi-tenshi

Besides Hermione's announcement on the capture of the Skeeter beetle, and then hexing of the 'Dumb and Dumber Trio' (a.k.a Malfoy and his goons), the journey to King's Cross was unnaturally quiet this year. One could tell that the conversation, if any at all, was rather forced. After numerous failures at attempted banter, we finally gave up altogether. 

Fred and George were huddled together in one corner, both sulking while looking suitably depressed at the loss of their savings to Bagman.

Hermione could be seen poring over some book or other. Being Hermione, the book was at least 30cm long, 20cm wide and 10cm thick, meaning that it's a very, _very_ big book. I wonder how she carries it around? 'Must have cast some levitation charm or other on it,' I thought as I shrugged it off.

Ron, (surprise surprise…) to my great amazement and utmost horrification, was reading a book too, and it was not about Quidditch! Hell must have frozen over! Upon closer inspection, I saw that he was reading up on chess tactics and strategies. Ah…that explains this unusual phenomenon…

I looked back down at my own book ("1001 Handy Hexes and Curses" by Matilda Lindsay), staring blankly at the pages, though not really seeing anything at all, being preoccupied in my own thoughts…

I had left Hedwig in Hogwarts this year, believing that she'll fare better in the Owlery than with my relatives. After all, nothing stopped them from starving her for the past two years right? It had been a rather hard decision to make, but I love my owl, she was one of the first friends I've ever had. I know it's silly having an owl as a companion, but living friendless for eleven years does do this to people, and, besides Hagrid, Hedwig was the first thing that had ever managed to stay in the same room as me without flinching, the first one that I had been able to talk to without looking at me with disdain, the first one that actually managed to gain my trust…

Alright, enough of this sentimentality. Anyhow, Hedwig's safety won over my fear of loneliness. After all, I had managed to survive 11 years alone before I got Hedwig, hadn't I?

I didn't want to bother Ron and Hermione about this. Hedwig won't appreciate being within a 20 m radius to Pig anyway. Also, Hogwarts _was_ supposedly one of the safest places in the world, despite the fact that Voldemort and his minions _had_ been able to infiltrate into the castle one too many times, without too much of a problem. 

Still, she wasn't too happy about me leaving her behind. I think she was under this misconception that I was abandoning her. It hurt to see her ignoring me when I left the Owlery. But it's better than to have her under the mercy of my uncle, better than having her starve to death…

***

**Dream**

I felt a jerk somewhere behind my navel, and my feet got lifted off the ground without warning before being slammed back on it again. An acute pain shot up my left calf muscles, causing me to pitch forwards and fall facedown onto the…grass?

I felt someone pull me back on my feet. Gathering my thoughts, I looked around…only to see myself in a dark overgrown graveyard. Squinting, I could glimpse a small church beyond a large yew tree to my right. A faint outline of a fine old house could be spotted on the hillside on my left. A combined jolt of panic and fear shot through me. "No! _No!_ Not again…_please!_"

Continuing my mantra, I felt myself turn to my right, against my will, coming face to face with Cedric Diggory. 'No…_please!_" I cried inwardly as I heard myself voicing out the question, "Where are we?" I tried to turn around, tried to escape, to run away from this dreadful place, from this inevitable incident that I knew was going to take place.

I could hear myself conversing with him, trying to figure out where we were, why were we here, and what had happened. I could hear the footsteps resounding through the eerie silence, the crushing of dead twigs and crisp dried leaves. I could see Wormtail approaching now, carrying a small bundle, also known as Voldermort (You-Know-Who, Dark Lord, Man-killer Extraordinaire…), trudging through the tombs, coming nearer… and nearer…

I fought to move, to break free from my puppeteer, to release myself from whatever was retraining me. I wanted to curse that traitor, to murder Voldermort with my bare hands, to prevent them from hurting…_killing_…Cedric. 

Without warning, I felt my scar explode with pain. I stood my ground, apparently unaffected…unruffled. After all, I had experienced worse.

Then, it came. The high, cold voice that seemed so far away... "_Kill the spare!_"

"_Avada Kedavra!_" A blast of green light blazed through my lids as I shut my eyes against the horrible scene, continuing my chant: 'Please stop it! No…_please!_'

My eyes was forced open again, coercing me to look at the sight in front of me: Cedric, lying eagle-spread on the ground beside me, _dead_…his open grey eyes, the blank expressionless windows to his soul, staring back at me…_dead_…

'_No…NO! _Cedric…' I was weeping inside, hitting myself repeatedly for failing him, failing to save him…

Wormtail came forward some more, dragging me towards a marble headstone, conjuring tight cords tying me down to the tombstone…_Tom Riddle_…

I felt my scar hurting, tingling with pain as I fought with the cords. I could hear Wormtail starting that damn blood ritual thing for Voldermort's resurrection...

"Bone of father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!

Flesh – of servant- willingly given – you will – revive – your master.

B-blood of enemy…forcibly taken…you will…resurrect your foe."

I felt rather than saw the cool tip of the dagger tracing my right arm, penetrating at the crook. 'Not again! _No…_'

Sparks were emanated from the cauldron as Wormtail poured my blood in it, and a surge of white steam billowed thickly from it once the sparks stopped. A dark outline of a man rose out slowly from the cauldron. "Robe me," a high-pitched screech echoed throughout the empty cemetery.

The events replayed out, right in front of my eyes. Wormtail was given a new hand, the Death Eaters were summoned, …the taunting started…

I was released from the binds…given back my wand. I stood in front of Voldermort once again, under different circumstances, ready to duel. Inside, I was weeping, praying to every god I knew to end this torture…to stop this nightmare.

The whole duel seemed to go on slow motion. The gods must hate me. I experienced the _Imperious _and _Cruciatus _curses again. I threw off both with relative ease, though I had to pretend to scream a little under the _Cruciatus_ for Voldermort's sake, hoping to find some way to escape while he was laughing his head off at my 'predicament'.

Then, it came… "_Avada Kedavra!_" "_Expelliarmus!_" The jets of light, issued from our wands, met in mid-air, changing into a deep golden beam. I could feel the electric charge surging through it, causing my wand to vibrate. We were lifted up and deposited in a clearing, the golden thread of light splintering and arcing over us, crisscrossing to form an enclosed dome-shaped web.

The Death Eaters were surrounding us, their cries …of outrage?…were strangely muffled. An unearthly and beautiful music filled the air, drowning out all other sounds and taking center stage…the _Phoenix's Song_

I saw myself directing the large beads to light across the thread and towards Voldermort, seeing his eyes filled with anger, and something that vaguely resembled fear, as he fought back but failed. The beads hit his wand, which began to emit echoing screams, followed by the dense, smoky ghost of the hand he made for Wormtail.

Then, came the…ghost?…of Cedric. It turned to face me, pinning me on the spot with that accusing glare. It was soon followed by the forms of an old man, Bertha Jorkins, and finally, my parents. They were circling me, staring at me with identical looks of hatred. The chant began…

"You killed us Harry…we died because of you…"

'No…please don't!'

"How could you? You just stood there and watched him murder me!" They started cornering me…

'I'm sorry Cedric…I'm sorry…' I was backed against a tree…

"You are a murderer Harry…no better than Voldermort…" Whispers, drowning me in their intensity

'I didn't mean to…I'm so sorry…' I cowered away, hugging myself…

"It's your fault that we are dead!" Voices, getting louder and louder…

'It's all my fault…' I was surrounded as I buried my head in my hands…

"It's all your fault…you killed us…you destroyed our futures…" More and more shadows joined the crowd as they continued to be emitted from Voldermort's wand, Voldermort himself and the Death Eaters having seemingly faded away.

'Sorry…I'm sorry…_please!_' I dropped my wand as I tried to recoil even more…

"_Murderer!_" they screeched, clawing at me…

'It's all my fault…I'm sorry…so, _so_ sorry…' I'm sobbing now, begging for them to leave me alone. It hurt……it hurt more than _Cruciatus_ ever will…but I deserved it, it's all my fault after all…

Voldermort's evil, maniacal laughter ringed in my ears, blending with the condemning voices that surrounded me as I screamed into the dark of the night…

**End Dream**

***

I woke up with a jolt, panting slightly, but thankfully not screaming as I had been in my nightmare. I glanced around frantically, trying to assure myself that I was safe now. Hermione and Ron were both asleep by now, Hermione having laid back against the seat after bookmarking her page, and Ron having just fallen right smack onto the book as he dozed off while reading. Both looked peaceful, tranquil in their sleep. Ron was even drooling a little. Fred and George seemed to have gone elsewhere in search of entertainment.

As my breathing gradually evened out, I began to reflect back on the dream. I'd already lost count of how many of these nightmares I'd had so far. I took to staying awake long after midnight to avoid them, though weariness appeared to encourage them even more, thereby increasing their scare factor. Still, it's better then having these dreams two or three times every night, as had happened in the first few days. I'd decided that insomnia was much better than insanity. I even went to the Owlery a few times under my invisibility cloak after a particularly nasty dream to look for Hedwig and hopefully keep myself from falling asleep again.

I had lots of different varieties of concealing charms all over my face to keep my friends from finding out. I've became quite proficient at them. After all, I had been doing a thorough research on them since first year, to hide what my family had been doing to me and all..

. I really didn't want to worry them, and they'd cart me off to Madam Pomfrey again and force me to stay in the Infirmary. Being there gave me too much time to ponder over things, and I really didn't want to play the 'what if?' game with myself. As if I wasn't engulfed by enough guilt already…any more, and I would really go insane, like what Fudge said…

Finally, the train pulled up at King's Cross, with was filled with the usual noise and confusion as we began to disembark. One would think that we just had a normal school year. I sighed, drinking in the sight, knowing that this may well be the last time I'll ever be seeing this cheerful, carefree scene. With Voldermort back, the loss of innocence of these…children…may well be inevitable… 

***

TBC

So…how was it? I sort of changed the Third Task a little to fit my needs, because the Harry Potter in JKR's world is not a poor abused kid that had gone through a lot more than other kids his age. Yes, in case you are wondering, in my fic, Harry can withstand the _Cruciatus_, simply because his uncle had done worse to him, making the _Cruciatus_ seem like childs' play to him. Basically, he screamed to distract Voldie a little so he could try thinking of ways to get the hell out of that damn graveyard. I was thinking of trying to make him immune to the _Avada Kedavra _curse too, but…I don't know…

Alright then, I've finished this chapter…please, _PLEASE_! Review!!! I thrive on them you know…gives me the motivation and things to write more…esp. with another exam of mine coming up…a major one too. I also need a serious ego boost after my horrible final year results…

**_PLEASE REVIEW!!!_**


	6. Harry's POV 03

**Author's Notes:** Ok…after reading yet more reviews, I figured that either my previous explanation was horrible, or people don't read the notes I put up at the start of every chapter…*sighs* Right, so I've decided to do this timeline thing. I have no idea if it'll work on other computers or not. If it doesn't, maybe you can reread the author's notes on chapter 6…

**Timeline**

Chapter 4         **|_** After the last task, before Harry went back to the Gryffindor tower.

**|**

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Chapter 6         **|_**In the Hogwarts Express, going home for the summer holidays, after the traumatizing fourth year stuff

**|**

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Chapter 7         **|_**First day of summer holidays, between fourth and fifth years

**|**

**:**

**:**

More chapters that I haven't written yet…****

**:**

**:**

Chapter 1,2&3 **|_**About a week into the summer holidays between fourth and fifth years

**|**

**:**

**:**

**:**

More chapters that I haven't written yet…

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I'm writing in what the Chinese call "cha1 xu4" way of writing. The chapters do not go in order. I purposely left chapter 3 hanging there and kind of went back to the _past_ to show you what Vernon did to poor Harry to make him like that…

Alright then, thanks to all my lovely reviewers…I really appreciate it! ^.^ And I finally passed the 100 mark!!! *leaps around the bonfire and yells happily…*

Lindsay – I do hope you understood the timeline? If you don't maybe you can read the note in chapter 6 or something…

SilverWolf – I know…I don't think I'll make him that powerful…I want him vulnerable so Sev can care for him ^.^

Aurelius – I'm using Microsoft Word for all my fics. I think it's the 2000 Version…

Butterfly – Thank you…I'm glad you liked it. ^.^ Sev won't come in for a while yet (sorry…*sheepish look*). As for when we'll see him again…I have no idea actually…I'm still deciding how much I want to prolong Harry's abuse…

So, I dedicate this to all those nice people that reviewed…all those that didn't better review after you've read this. *growls* ^.^'

Happy reading…

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**A Fallen Angel**

By chibi-tenshi

The Hogwarts Express pulled into the station and students began to stream out, each eager to start another school-free holiday, planning to leave the homework to the very last minute (except for one Hermoine Granger, and maybe some of the Ravenclaws), wanting to milk as much fun as possible for the summer holidays, even if they couldn't do magic.

The "Hogwarts Trio", as they were so aptly named, stumbled out of their carriage. Harry Potter (a.k.a. The-Boy-Who-Lived) lagged behind a little, his gaze sweeping around the station, as if trying to find something…or, _someone_…

He smiled a little as he caught sight of the Weasley Twins. "Fred – George – wait a moment!" he called out as he jogged up to them. 

They turned, walking slowly towards him, wondering about what was it that he wanted. Harry pulled open his trunk as soon as he reached them, drawing up his Triwizard winnings.

"Take it," he said, thrusting the sack into George's hands.

"What?" said Fred, looking flabbergasted.

"Take it, I don't want it," Harry repeated firmly.

"You are mental," said George, trying to push the sack back to Harry.

"I'm not! You take it and get inventing. It's for the joke shop. Anyway, I'm going to throw it down the gutter later if you don't take it. I don't need it, and I don't want it either. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I have a feeling that we would need a lot of it soon," Harry said again, desperately trying to convince the twins that it's for a good cause.

"Harry," said George weakly, weighing the bag in his hands, "there's got to be a thousand Galleons in here!"

"Yeah, think of how many Canary Creams that is," Harry said, grinning slightly

The twins stared at him…

"Just don't tell your mum where you got it," Harry continued. "Though she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it…"

"Harry…" Fred began, but Harry pulled out his wand.

"Look," he said flatly, "take it, or I'll hex you. I'd reckon I know some pretty good ones by now. Just do me one favor, OK? Buy Ron some different dress robes, and say they are from you."

With that over and done with, he ran to catch up with Ron and Hermione, leaving the twins with identical looks of shock and amazement at his wake. He pushed and jostled though the crowd to move towards the red-haired mob at the opposite end of the station, only to be swept directly into Molly Weasley's embrace. Harry flinched a little at this, but did not pull away in fear of hurting Mrs. Weasley's feelings.

They continued on their way, once Fred and George recovered enough to reattach their jaws to their face and catch up with the group, through the barrier separating Platform 9 ¾ from the muggle world, all the while talking and laughing at the exchanged news. Surprisingly, all the Weasleys were present, including Percy, Bill and Charlie. Apparently, they had heard about Voldemort's rebirth and decided that there was strength in numbers.

One by one, they casually slid pass the barrier, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, though the famous fiery red Weasley hair was certainly attracting a lot of attention as people turned to see where the fire was.

Harry was strangely subdued as he walked across the station, only nodding occasionally or laughing politely at the correct intervals. The rest guessed what his mind was on (the Third Task, duh), and left him on his own devices for most part.

As for Harry himself, he can't seem to shake off this uncomfortable feeling that something bad was going to happen. Over his years at Hogwarts, after about a thousand and one earth shattering encounters with Voldemort, he had learnt that his instincts were normally quite accurate. He sighed in resignation, knowing that things were never normal around him, and that there was no point worrying, because, as Hagrid had said, what would come would come…and he would have to meet it when it did…

Deciding to get this summer gone and over with so he could get back to Hogwarts sooner, Harry bid all of them goodbye, and was taken by surprise when Hermoine gave him a fierce hug and kissed him on his cheeks. His first instinct was to push her away and sprint off as fast as he could to the opposite end of the station, but he was not as dense as that, and he forced himself to relax into her hug, so as not to attract too much attention. Then, as the group split up, the Weasleys moved off to the wizard pub across the road for floo travel and Hermoine went in search for her parents.

Harry opened his trunk and took out his wand, invisibility cloak and photo album, and stuffed it under his T-shirt, which was so humongous that he could hide an elephant in it and nobody would notice. He wanted to make sure that he had at least some form of defense should Voldemort ever found out where he was, determined that he wouldn't go down without a fight even if Voldemort took him by surprise. Removing the photo album for safekeeping was pure indulgence on his part. He couldn't help but shudder when he thought about what Vernon would do to it if he ever got his pudgy hands on it. 

He tried to shrug off the bad vibes he was experiencing for the time being as he scanned around the station for his uncle.

He caught sight of him struggling to hide his huge bulk behind a long, slim pillar and pushed the trolley towards him. As he approached, his uncle seemed to have sensed his presence and turned around facing him, snorting when he saw that he was indeed Harry Potter and his hope of not being able to find Harry in the station, so that he could go home empty-handed, had vanished.

As they approached the car, Harry was astonished to note that this car was the same one that his uncle was using last year, as he happened to change cars every half a year or so.

Vernon got into the driver's seat and started up the engine as Harry loaded his trunk into the boot, with much difficulty I might add, since the trunk was, like, twice his weight. Finally, he succeeded in the near impossible task and plunked down onto at back seat, panting and puffing heavily, only to have his uncle scream at him, "You'd better not dirty the seats. Try anything funny on the way back and I will guarantee you that you would wish you had never been born once I am through with you!"

Harry, knowing better than to disagree with him, sat back on the seat in silence and the rest of the journey basically continued pretty much that way.

            The car pulled into 4 Privet Drive. Harry could see that the house remained pretty much as it was when he left it last year, a perfect picture of normalcy. Dread settled at the pit of his stomach as he got out of the car, remembering what the Weasley twins had done to Dudley the year before. His negative feelings further pummeled as he spied a nasty glint in his uncle's eye while lugging his trunk up to the door.

As soon as he stepped into the house, his uncle unlocked the cupboard under the stairs and signaled for him to leave his trunk in it. Harry, feeling scared at his uncharacteristic silence by now, only compiled to his wishes before trudging up the stairs with him to his room. 

There, by the door, he could see his aunt's bony frame and his cousin's huge bulk, making him even more terrified at the fate that awaited him, especially when he saw that the glint in his uncle's eye had mutated into a fiendish grin, and that it was similarly plastered on the faces of the rest of the Dursleys.

Once he pulled the door open, he was shoved roughly into his room. His eyes widened when he saw the state of his room, stifling a groan when he saw what it contained. All of Dudley's toys, books and whatever other miscellaneous stuff that used to take up most of the space in the room were cleared out, leaving the room to look exceptionally bare. 

The windows were barred, effectively deterring any means of escape and communication through owl-post. 'Even Pig won't be able to fit,' he thought dispassionately.

A small chamber pot was placed at the leftmost corner of the room. 'Guess I'm not going to get my toilet breaks now huh?' he sighed mentally to himself.

He didn't need to look back to know that a cat-flap was once again fitted into the door.

His bed was moved from its usual right wall to the middle of the room and shackles were hanging from the bedpost. 'Shit, I was hoping that he forgot about those!' he almost moaned out, biting his lips to keep the words from escaping.

A small rack, newly installed on the left-hand side of the room, was covered with all kinds of belts, all looking polished and shiny, ready for use. 'I've been wondering where these went. I suppose him dumping them is too much to hope for,' he half-groaned resignedly.

 The table at the right corner almost escaped his notice, almost, but not quite. It held things that kids his age should have never known about, let alone set their eyes on. 'Damn it, I'm _so_ dead…' he resisted the urge to rub his temples in defeat, knowing that the Dursleys were watching his every move.

A shadow was cast on him as his uncle loomed up behind, giving an altogether menacing effect. He was unable to stop a grimace as he anticipated what would come next………

***

TBC

So…how was it? It's a cliffie isn't it? *evil grin* So…bwahahahaha…review if you ever want me to continue this…especially sadists like me…'cause the abuse is starting soon…*maniacal laughter*

Oh…and I finally hit 10000+ words…mwahahahaha…

**REVIEW** ok? I would really appreciate it!!! *smiles innocently*


	7. Harry's POV 04

Author's Notes: GOMEN-NASAI!!! (I'm sorry!!) I'm soooo sorry I took so long to update!!!! I went on a holiday at Malacca and there were sooo many updates for the fics I was reading!!! And I found this totally new fic… "A Type of Revenge" by Mystica Avalon…and it's sooooo long and I took _ages_ to finish reading that (avg. half to one hour per chapter, and there's 16 so far…), though it's not completed *pouts* (it's a DM/HP pairing btw), and what with holiday homework and all…and I have work experience starting tomorrow till the 29th Nov too…shit…I _hate_ my schedule. Sorry again…

And I want to thank all the reviewers for reviewing…^.^ *grinz*

Lee – I'll take that as a complement *laughs*

JKY - *hands over a tissue box* Calm down…breathe in, and out. I'll try not to be too hard on him…NOT! *evil grin*

Katherine – Bwahahaha…you noticed! I _love _abuse fics too! (Esp. HP/SS ones!!!) Any you can recommend? Anyway, you should be able to tell that poor ickle Harry was abused before Hogwarts and I might just describe the scenes in great detail…_if_ I can get the words out that is…I seem to get blocks at the worst possible times *sighz*

Butterfly

SparkySparkles – Tada…your long awaited 8th chapter ^.^

SilverWolf – Me too!!! I just love abuse scenes!!! Here a mild one just below *grinz*. I just _love _them, esp. those that may make me cry…*evil laughter* Harry's POV would continue till at least chapter 10 too…

Lina Inverse the Dramata – I know…but there is sort of a reason behind where I didn't get a beta. I take long enough to update no? imagine is I have to post it to the beta first, then wait for her to post it back, _then_ check through it briefly again…I believe that would take ages…_or_, maybe I'm just too lazy *grinz*

Kalih - *passes some tissue over* Cool down…I'll try and make sure he get better later…

Slyffindor Playmate - *smiles* Thanks…

Kat – did I? Shit…I'll try and watch it…thanks for pointing it out…

Lei Dumbledore – *gushes* Thank you!!!

Allocin – well…here's more ^.^

Saavik – yes, but not till much MUCH later, and not without Sev ^.^

Npetrenko – thanx!! ^.^

Scrat – I know how you feel…I've abandoned one of my other fics on some anime too…it's sad really, but I got this awful block and just can't continue it…

Shit…I think my notes may just be longer than the fic…anyway, on with the story…

A Fallen Angel

By chibi-tenshi

He was unable to stop a grimace as he anticipated what would come next.

"Now, Boy, we've decided that what you did last summer was too unruly and you need to be taught your place," his uncle said in a sickly sweet voice as he cuffed Harry with one of his beefy hands. Harry bit back the urge to tell him that it was the Weasley twins' idea and he had nothing to do with it. He could hear Dudley's cheers in the background as he saw his dad taking revenge on the cause of his humiliation last year. He caught a glimpse of his aunt leaning against the doorframe, smirking at his predicament.

He could hear Vernon's malevolent laugh and see him reach out for a belt. He himself braced for the impact. The belt rained down on his body with sharp 'clacks' that echoed in his ears. 

He tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth as he bit his lips in an effort not to cry out. He had found that people get tired of hurting him faster if he did not give them the pleasure of feeling his hurt, and would therefore stop the torture sooner. He curled up into a small ball to reduce the areas of his skin exposed to the belt. 

He blinked back the tears of pain as he cut himself away from his body, distancing himself from the pain, just like how he had been training himself to do ever since a tender age of three. It was like learning to ride a bicycle, he never forgot, even if this skill was a little rusty from long-term disuse. The pain became a faraway thing, more of a nuisance rather than a threat.

He could hear a far off voice saying things like: "That's for jinxing Dudley, and that's for destroying our fireplace", and "Not so cocky now are we? Scared of a wee-little beating?" or "So where's that godfather you were boosting about huh? Nobody to save your sorry little skin now, have you?"

He ignored all of the taunting, enduring the whole tirade in silence, knowing that retaliating would only give them a reason to hurt him more. 

Dudley had joined his father by now. They didn't seem to be planning to stop anytime soon. Fueled by the anger at the 'injustice' done to them last summer, they lashed out more viciously than they had ever done at him, feeling a warped sense of satisfaction when they drew blood from the pale, delicate skin.

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally stopped. His uncle's voice boomed over his head, "That'll teach you never to mess with us!" They then retreated from the room, leaving Harry to tend to his own wounds, their guffaws echoing down the corridor.

Harry, finally coming out of his trance, climbed up his bed to check his wounds. He failed to stop a hiss from escaping when he felt a stab of pain shoot through his chest. "Broken rib, bruises, cuts…" he thought detachedly. "I wonder what they were so pissed about? It has never been so horrible, not since then…"

**/Flashback/**

Eight-year-old Harry Potter peered carefully around the front door of 4 Privet Drive. It was the start of the summer holidays again. Most kids love the holidays. To them, it was a period of fun and laughter, their only worry being the end of the holidays when they all had to go back to school again. 

But Harry was different. Harry actually liked school. Before you ask, no, he wasn't the goody-goody type that loved sucking up to teachers, nor does he enjoy the homework and studying that comes as a package together with going to school. School, to him was like a safe haven, even with Dudley's constant taunting and the fights he got into for being the thorn in Dudley's flesh. With school, the Dursleys dared not be too harsh on him, afraid that it would come to the teachers' attention. They couldn't have that now, could they? It would ruin their perfect reputation if the school found out how they were treating Harry.

The holidays meant that the Dursleys could do whatever they liked with Harry, as long as they left him to heal on his own for the last week or so, depending on the extent of his injuries. The walls in the house were soundproof. None of the neighbors ever found out. Even his babysitter, Mrs. Figg, was none wiser about his situation. The Dursleys made sure of that. With a few well-placed threats, they made Harry give excuses like "I fell down the stairs" or "I got into a fight with a friend" to cover up the telltale bruises or cuts.

He had been bullied, beaten as well as generally treated like a slave ever since he could remember. "Boy! Clear out the cupboard!", "How dare you break my plate!", "No, Pierre, you have to punch him here. It hurts more, see?", "Mom! Harry broke my television!"…

The Dursleys were always exceptionally harsh on the first day of the break, after having endured months of not being able to do anything to him. Today was no different…

"How dare you enter with your shoes on? I've just polished the floor!" His aunt was shrieking at the non-existent dirt on the floor when his uncle came over with a belt on his hand. He pulled him into the house, shut the door and started whipping him. "Dirtying the floor eh? You insolent boy! We worked so hard to take care of you and this is how you repay us?! Your poor aunt took ages to get the floor nice and shiny, and you flushed all her hard work down the drain just because you were too lazy to remove your shoes before stepping in! You ungrateful brat! I bet you were the one that jinxed my job too! My company is losing money, and don't you dare smirk at me you annoying piece of shit! You do not deserve our kindness and hospitality! You would have been sleeping on the streets by now if we had not taken you in! …"

Harry had to bite his cheeks to stop himself from retorting. He sank onto the floor and huddled up to minimize whatever damage Vernon was planning to do to him. A sick crack around his thorax informed him about a broken rib. His wrist, twisted at a weird angle, was lying limply at his side.

He tuned out Vernon's voice and tried to latch onto something else he could concentrate on besides the burning pain that was slowly, but surely, consuming his body. It had never been this bad. The whippings had never lasted this long, neither did they do this much damage, not even when he had accidentally broke one of Petunia's favorite vases.

Catching snippets of Vernon's rant, he finally figured that Vernon was pissed off that his company's decision about retrenching some of its members and that he was pinning the whole blame on him for being the 'freak' he was.

Finally, Vernon's hand got tired and after one last lash, he was thrown into the cupboard, a barely audible click signifying him being locked in. His whole body was smarting as the pain kicked in. He tucked his knees under his chin and began to sob quietly about the unfairness of it all, and about his miserable existence people call a life.****

**/end of flashback/**

           Harry sighed at that unpleasant memory, pushing it back into the dark recesses of his mind before lying down on the bed and fell asleep…

Well…that's all…it's ok right? *looks up hopefully* And in case you're wondering, this is not a cliffie…at least, I didn't mean it to be one…I hope you liked it…and please!!! **REVIEW**!!!!


	8. Harry's POV 05

Author's notes: SORRY PPLE!!! I'm sorry I took sooooo long to update…it was *looks at watch* ten days since the previous chapter…*oops*…I've been busy…going out at 8am and coming back at 6pm…and I was trying to get the next few chapters out to, just to make sure that it flows…

Anyway, Sev would be coming out soon…probably in chapter 12…

There'll be ABUSE scenes in this chapter…not too graphic as compared to the next few chapters I'm going to write, but it's enough to make those weak-hearted people want to hurl. So _please_…don't read if you can't take it…I really don't want more flames on my sadistic outlook…

Thanks to all the people who reviewed ^.^

poodle power – you'll have to wait for that…Harry have to get over plenty of issues first…I hardly think a rape victim and go for sex that fast. As for Sev, I don't think he's the type that would initiate the 'debauching' of a student…

kat – nah-uh…if not, I think I'm sick too…bwahahaha…don't you just _love_ abuse scenes?

aurors – I'm afraid that Sev didn't get to do anything besides scaring the heck off them. He was too busy fussing about Harry's condition. By the time he remembered about revenge, the Dursleys were already detained in the Child Protection Council (for those that asked before, it's the wizarding world's council)…

Selina – I'll probably come back to that by chapter 12 *crosses fingers*

Breve – Riiiiight…I advise you not to read this chapter then…it's almost as bad as the previous one. Besides, I've read worse abuse scenes than this, and I happen to enjoy them, so…(I know, I'm a sadist, so sue me…)

A Fallen Angel

By chibi-tenshi

**/Dream/**

Harry squinted into the hazy darkness that seemed to surround him, unable to comprehend just where he was. He was afraid to take a step forward, afraid that he would lose his footing and plunge into the deep, empty abyss. He appeared to be immersed in nothingness, without any sense of direction.

Then, he felt a pull behind his navel, just as one would feel when traveling by portkey. The inky blackness seemed to fade away, and a bright light assaulted his eyes. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he made out a cottage in front of him, burning merrily under the lovely starlit sky.

He caught sight of some people in the cottage, looking helpless and terrified at what was happening to them. A toddler was wailing as he tried to snuggle against the woman behind him, though she was in no condition to comfort him. Black, hooded figures were standing outside, looking on with sick glee at what, to them, was a beautiful sight.

One of the figures pointed its wand at the woman, muttering something under his breath, sending the woman screaming in agony, clawing her body as if trying to distract herself from the pain, pushing the toddler away as she got lost in the waves of pain shot through her body. The man beside her could only watch as she suffered, looking as if he had no idea what the hell was going on. 'And he probably didn't too,' Harry thought as he saw that they were most likely muggles from the T-shirts and jeans they were wearing. 

Harry himself was gritting his teeth as he felt the pain shoot through his body as it had the woman. He reached for his wand, wanting to help, only to find that it wasn't there. He ran desperately, closer to the scene, despite the fact that the saner part of him demanded for him to turn away and flee while it was possible. He sped up when he heard a clearly intoned "_Crucio_!", followed by the man's screams along with the woman.

He flung himself onto the nearest cloaked figure, only to find himself going right past it. He stared in confusion, still unable to comprehend what was going on as he attempted a swipe at the figure's wand, once again failing miserably. He fruitlessly tried to attract the attentions of the figures away from the family trapped in the cottage, hoping to give them time to escape.

He watched as the flames started to consume the people in the cottage, silently burning off skin and flesh, gradually sucking the lives out of its victims. He listened as the screams of anguish slowly died down, seeing the tears of torture sliding down the victims' faces before the fire devoured away the remaining evidences of life, leaving a pile of ashes at its wake. 

A soft "_Morsmordre_" was whispered and a vast, green and glittery light shot out from amongst the figures and shaped itself into a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.

He could hear the sounds of the twisted laughter ring through the now still night air as he clenched his fists at the unfairness of this all, unaware of the tears trailing down his cheeks.****

**/End Dream/**

His eyes opened as he awoke, his t-shirt drenched in cold sweat that dissolved some of the dried blood. He huddled into a small ball, clutching his legs as he began to sob, softly in fear of awakening the Dursleys, though he found himself wishing that the his uncle would come and beat this out of his system.

As his sniveling slowly subsided, he glanced up and saw small rays of sunlight filtering through the window bars. He checked on the small clock the Dursleys had left on the floor next to the bed. 7:23a.m. The Dursleys would be up soon. He struggled to sit up, ignoring his body's protest. He was still sore after yesterday's whipping. 

Turning over, he sat on something hard. 'My photo album! And my cloak and wand!' (A/N you didn't think I would forget about these did you?) He was surprised that the Dursleys had not spotted it earlier, but concluded that they were having too much fun belting him. He got onto the floor to stuff his things under the loose floorboard and walked over to the dresser for a fresh change of clothes. (A/N Yes, there is one in the room. I didn't mention it because it was insignificant.)

As soon as he had finished changing, he heard a loud pounding at his door. "Get up Boy! Dudley needs his breakfast!" his aunt screeched through the door.

"Yes Aunt Petunia," he replied before dragging himself out of his room. "Don't you _dare_ speak to me in that disrespectful tone Boy!" his aunt screeched into his ear, slapping him across the face. "You'd better not destroy the breakfast or you'll wish that we'd never set our sights on you!"

He walked sluggishly into the kitchen and turned on the stove, preparing for his family's breakfast, wincing slightly as he accidentally jolted his aching ribcage. He was finished with making toast and boiling some eggs, and was preparing to fry some bacon when his cousin casually sauntered in, stopping beside him to hit his head before plopping into the chairs on his side of the table.

Harry almost toppled over onto the stove at the force of the blow and had to hurriedly extinguish the flames eating his singed hair. Dudley only sniggered at his misfortune, leaning against the table and causing it to creak in protest at his weight. He had grown quite a bit since the last Harry saw him. Apparently, the Dursleys decided to forgo the diet, since it wasn't working, and his massive bottom was now spread out over two chairs and was _still _overflowing at the sides. His massive bulk was taking up a whole side of the dining table and his fat-filled face was even more scrunched up than ever.

Harry ignored his cousin's pig-like snorts with practiced ease and went on cooking the bacon. By now, his aunt and uncle had entered and were sat at opposite ends of the table. Vernon was reading the Business Times, his face steadily going more and more purple as he read on, making Harry wonder for a bit about what he was so incensed at before returning his attention to the sizzling bacon.

Dudley, annoyed that he had failed to get a response out of Harry, pursed his mouth as he plotted on another way to get Harry into trouble. His lips curled into a wicked sneer as he saw his chance. Just as Harry was scooping the bacon off the pan and placing it on his breakfast plate, he took a deep breath and let it all out in a bawl, "Daddy! Harry burnt my bacon!"

Vernon, riled up at the morning news, plus the fact that he really hated Harry, got up and struck his nephew at his head, savoring the relief that the brutal contact brought and continued venting his anger by means of punching, kicking and basically knocking the hell out of the cringing boy.

As for Harry, he pushed away the instinct to fight back, enduring the whole outburst in silence, a little voice at the back of his head saying, "You deserve this you know. After all, you helped with Voldemort's resurrection. You are the cause of Cedric's death, as well as the deaths of the thousands of people that would be killed because of the fact the Voldemort is back." 

At long last, the beating stopped. A list was shoved under Harry's nose and Vernon's voice sprung up, "No breakfast for you today, and no lunch too. Finish all this before I get home from work today or you won't get your dinner either. I do _not_ want a repeat of your incompetence. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes Uncle Vernon," was all Harry could force out as the Dursleys went back to their breakfast.

Not daring to stay on the floor any longer and risk his uncle's wrath again, he stood up, an excruciating task in itself, and proceeded to stare at the impossibly long list. (Clear away the breakfast utensils, weed and mow the garden, water the plants, spread fertilizer evenly over the yard, clean out the garage, repaint the garage door and the fence, sweep and mop the living room, wash the toilets…)

Knowing that he would never complete all of it in time, he settled for doing everything as fast as he could before his uncle's return, hoping against hope that it, by some miracle, would be able to soothe Vernon's anger…

Bwahahahaha…extreme abuse will be coming up in the next chapter…**REVIEW** if you want more of it! *lol*


	9. Harry's POV 06

**Author's Notes:** WARNING!!! EXPLICIT **ABUSE** SCENES!!! MAJOR **RAPE** SCENE COMING UP!!! ESCAPE WHILE YOU CAN!!! (A/N Bwahahaha!!! I specialize in traumatizing lil' kids)

Thank you to all those who reviewed!!! ^.^ 

Some comments…

Son of Evil – Adopt? ADOPT?! *incredulous look* Um…have you been reading my warnings? This is a Harry/Severus **SLASH **pairing…which means a **gay** relationship, as in two guys together in _that_ way in case you don't know. I won't blame you if you want to leave now…just don't flame me…make sure you read the warnings next time…

Saavik – You mean the previous few chapters wasn't enough? Haahaa…then this chapter should be able to satisfy you…I hope…

The Dragon Faerie – Severus will be up in the next chapter…when I actually decide to update…*lol*…It'll be faster with more reviews *hint hint*

Quote from some anonymous reviewer: 'Do we really need three straight chapters of abuse to get the point across?'

Answer: Not really, I just want Harry to suffer a little before Sev patches him up…skip this chapter if you don't want to read about the abuse…

A Fallen Angel 

By chibi_tenshi

Knowing that he would never complete all of it in time, he settled for doing everything as fast as he could before his uncle's return, hoping against hope that it, by some miracle, would be able to soothe Vernon's anger………

           It seemed like luck was just not on his side that day. Vernon came home in a terrible temper, yelling out a loud "BOY!" before stomping into the kitchen where Harry was cooking dinner. He then proceeded to haul him by his collar, pulling him away from the stove, not caring about how the pork chops in the pan splutter at being so roughly handled, nor about how Harry scorched himself when he (Harry) dropped the ladle into the oil-filled pan and caused the oil to splash up onto his hand.

"I thought I told you to repaint the garage _boy_, and the fences. Since when did you see fit to disobey _my_ orders? How _dare_ you display this bout of disobedience? Last night wasn't a good enough lesson was it?" Vernon screeched out his ire as he backhanded Harry across the room. "That'll teach you to _do as I tell you to_!" He undid his buckles, and, belt in hand, began to work off his anger by furiously whipping all the bare, unprotected skin he could find on Harry's body, a smirk forming on his face as he looked on proudly at the red welts starting to form. He kicked as hard as he could, repeatedly, on the small, cowering frame, his evil grin growing wider by the minute as he felt the delicious crunch of bones beneath his foot. He continued this tirade for several minutes before sitting down beside the dining table, his breath coming in sharp pants though a satisfied smile graced his lips.

Harry laid still for some moments, trying to calm his palpitating heart as the pain kicked in once his disconnected mind decided to wander back into his body. He suppressed the wince, stopping the cry of pain that was threatening to escape from the depths of his throat, unwilling to give his uncle any more pleasure from this 'sport' than he was already getting at the moment.

Once the pain had somewhat numbed a little, he slowly dragged himself off the floor, returning to the sizzling pork that was slowly, but surely, getting burnt to a crisp. A distant, detached part of his brain was telling him that he was really going to get it from his aunt as he scooped up the piece of meat to place it onto a plate, careful not to jar his wrist, which appeared to be sprained.

Dudley, who had been drawn away from his video games by the commotion, was sneering at him from the doorway, a cruel glint lighting up his piggy eyes the whole time throughout the whipping. His sadistic smirk had lit up even further as he screamed in that whiny voice of his, "MUM! HARRY RUINED THE DINNER!"

Petunia swept into the kitchen so quickly that it almost seemed as if she had _Apparated_. She didn't even glance at the plate of meat before striking Harry across his left cheek, not really caring if it left a mark. It could be easily explained with the normal excuses (i.e. walked into the door, fell down the stairs, etc), as long as it wasn't too obvious. She continued screeching like the old hag she was, making some strategic hits on Harry's abdomen and torso before Harry could gather his wits together to huddle up and protect his major organs. 

A few well placed insults ("You good for nothing brat! You're nothing but a burden to others!", "We feed you, cloth you and give you a place to live in, and _this_ is how you repay us?!"…) made him plunge even deeper into the depression he was already in, the whispery voices in his head getting even louder and more persistent.

'You are nothing but a burden you know? You only bring death to people around you. Look at your parents, or Cedric…they wouldn't have died if you didn't exist in the first place…they _died_ because of you…'

'B-but…I…I didn't mean to…I didn't know! Dumbledore said that Voldemort would still go after my parents, simply because they were working against him…it-it has nothing to do with me………does it?'

'Ah…but don't you remember? Voldemort was willing to spare your mother…she _died_ to save you. And Cedric…you told him to take the cup together…you had put your hand in killing him too. And all the innocents involved in the soon-to-be-happening war…all those muggles and muggle-borns…their lives are in danger because _your_ blood resurrected Voldemort…and you _still _think you have nothing to do with it?'

"…"

"It's all you fault, Harry, and you _know_ it!"

"All my fault…I killed them…I helped to revive the Dark Lord…it's all my fault…"

A jerk from his aunt wrenched him out of his reverie. He tried to will his head to stop hurting, to stop his surroundings from swirling around in a messy blend of colors in front of him. He caught a few words from his aunt – "go…bedroom…no dinner…stay there…tomorrow…" – before he felt himself being shoved out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

He collapsed into his bed the moment he entered his bedroom, weeping his heart out, unable to keep his tears in any longer. He had pressed a pillow over his head to muffle his sobs, knowing that disturbing the Dursleys would mean the beginnings of yet another thrashing. He attempted to cry away his despair, the guilt he felt pertaining to Cedric's death, his helplessness in the hands of what was left of his relatives, and the nausea he experienced whenever he thought about his nightmares and Voldemort's victims. He could not help but feel that he deserved this torment, simply because he was responsible for all that had happened, for the Dark Lord's rise back to power, and the pain, torture and _death_ it was sure to bring.

It was a while before he finally cried himself to sleep, only to be plagued by nightmares of Cedric Diggory and the horrible visions of Voldemort's muggle-extermination campaign…

_(A/N I thought it would sound better if the rest of the chapter was in first person format…gives it more of a realistic feel I think…)___

_/Dream/_

A pungent smell whiffed up to me. I crumpled my nose in distaste. It was the smell of pain, the smell of fear…the metallic smell of blood, the nauseating smell vomit…the acrid smell of burnt plastic…and so much more. The scene in front of me was one of utter chaos…of total pandemonium.  People, muggles I believe, were running about like headless chickens with no sense of direction whatsoever. There was no one keeping order…each for their own, fighting for their own survival.

'Berners Street', I read from the sign I spotted just a little way in front of me. It took me a while to register this to be a street in London from what little I remembered from my geography class in 4th grade. (A/N I've no idea if this street even exists…and if it does, I don't know what it's like…) I walked down the path I was on, all the while wondering about what had happened here…

Suddenly, I caught a flash of black just to my right, and being innately inquisitive, I followed it………and came to a stop at the sight of black-hooded figures standing in front of a multi-storey flat, one of whom had its wand pointed at a teenaged blond lady, holding her in a full body bind while the others had their way with her. Repulsed at what I was seeing, I quickly turned away, only to see some more of those figures torturing an old man with the _Cruciatus_.

It seemed as if no matter where I turned, I would be forced to witness various acts of torture and murder. The air was saturated with screams of agony, torment and anguish, drowning me with its intensity. 

I reached for my wand, pulling it out from my robes, a part of me vaguely surprised that I was wearing robes instead of muggle clothes, though I can't exactly remember why. I pointed my wand at one of the dark, towering figures, shouting out a _Stunning_ spell as loud as I could in a desperate attempt to block out the screams from my throbbing head.

I was shocked as my spell went straight through the figure and dissipated into thin air. I tried again and again, using all kinds of curses and hexes I could recall, but none of them worked. I started to get frantic, beginning to look around to see if any aid has arrived.

'Why wouldn't anyone help?' I thought desperately. 'Where are the aurors? The hit wizards? Or whoever's supposed to keep the _Deatheaters_ in line? Why isn't anyone helping them?!'

I felt totally useless, standing there and looking on at this massacre, and yet being unable to be of any assistance. Being a passive onlooker was wrecking havoc in my system as I watched on, growing more and more distressed as the screams went on.

Cries for help filled the air…blood splattered on the floor…flames merrily licking the curtains at an open window… tears of pain flowed freely down the faces of tortured victims…an explosion nearby knocked me off my feet…

_/End Dream/_

And I woke up, finding myself on the floor across the room from my bed. I opened my bleary eyes, blinking a little while trying to adjust to the blurry view, not that I could see without my glasses, which I indistinctly remembered having left on my dressing table before I toppled into my bed.

Looking up, I could see a big, burly figure standing at the other side of my bed. Though the edges and outlines look a bit fuzzy, I could make him out to be my uncle. He moved around the bed and came towards me, his gait seeming to be a little…unsteady. As he neared, my nose picked up a smell that had became familiar to me over the period of my adolescence…the thick, overpowering smell of beer…

'No! No! NO! Not again! Please! God help me!'  I thought, repeating this mantra silently in my mind even as I maintained my outwardly impassive look. Uncle Vernon just threw a drunken grin at me (at least, I think he did, I couldn't see well without my glasses), picking me up and dumping me on the bed.

He pulled my arms above my head, chaining my wrists to the bedpost. Then he moved down to chain my legs too. It seemed like god had decided to go on a vacation at Disneyland today…

He went to the small, non-descript table at the corner, pausing a while before he reached over and picked up a ornate dagger, pulling the sharp-looking blade from it's sheath and holding it out to the faint ray of light that filtered from the streetlights through the bars. 

He stalked back to me, the polished dagger twinkling innocently in his hand. I could almost imagine the crazed glint in his eyes as he traced the dagger down across my face, drawing a little blood as it went past my throat, before it ended up just above the neck of my t-shirt.

I shut my eyes, squeezing them tightly to prevent my tears from escaping. Nonetheless, I didn't struggle. I knew it was useless, especially with the chains on. I have tried…believe me, I had. It hadn't helped. All it did was to prolong process. He _loved_ it when I fought back…and it gave him a reason to hit me afterwards.

I heard the sound of tearing cloth, felt my shirt being yanked roughly away from my body once he'd finished shredding it. I shivered when the cool night breeze hit my body as the shirt was probably thrown haphazardly across the room.

'Stop it please! Help me! Somebody…_anybody_! Please…make him stop! Please……'

I distanced myself from this, dislocating my conscious thoughts from the rest of me, just as I did so many times when I was a kid, when I didn't want to remember what he was doing to me. It always came back in the end though, after he'd left…_always_…

Somewhere in my mind, I registered my pants being torn away…I registered his mouth attach to mine as he forced my lips open, plunging his vile tongue down my throat…I registered the acute pain that raced up my spine as he roughly thrust into me, as I was ripped apart, piece by piece, from the inside…I registered how much my chest ached as he decorated it with nonsensical swirls with his dagger while he pounded brutally into me…I registered his hand running all around my body, pinching, smacking, pulling whatever he could to leave his mark…

All these seemed be continue as a blur, continuing for what appeared to be an eternity before he finally climaxed, spilling torrents of his seed into me…I feel dirty…

"Stop messing with my job………jinx………serves you right………" was all I heard from his slur before he released me from the restraints and exited the room.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging my legs as I wept silently. I feel dirty. I want to brush my teeth with at least two tubes of Darlie toothpaste. I want to run into the bathroom and soak myself into a bathtub full of nice, warm water. I want to scrub away the filth, scrub till my skin is raw and bleeding. I want to scratch away the contaminated skin that had been touched by him. I want…I want…I just want to drop dead…to get away from this hell I'm living in…but I know I deserve it…I deserve to suffer…I bring death and destruction at my wake…it's only right that I pay for all that I'd done…

Yay!!!  It's done!!! I hope it's ok…did I make you cry? Please please _please_…tell me I did! Bwahahahaha! It's the evil side of me at work again. Anyway, this would probably be the end of the Harry-torture, since _someone_ told me that this is getting old, and because I'm tired of trying not to repeat myself in between the scenes…*grins*

OK…enough of my mindless pattering…please **REVIEW **and tell me what you think about it ok? Pretty please with sugar on top? I promise I'll put Sev in the next chapter! I know you're all dying to see him again! So, **review**, make me happy, and I'll put up the next chapter for you…*smiles sweetly*…I'm aiming for 200 by the way, so help me ^.^

**P.S.** if anyone bothers to read this, could someone _please_ help me find a good English-Latin translation site? I've been trying for _hours_ and all the sites I went to were crap! *argh!* I need this for some other fics I'm working on…I'll probably post them after I finish 'A Fallen Angel'. So…can any kind soul _please_ help me? Thanks a lot in advance!!!


	10. Harry's POV 07

Author's Notes: It's Christmas! And I've decided to spare everyone the agony of waiting and post another chapter…*grins* Besides, 199 is close enough to 200, so…I've decided to be nice for once. *laughs*

Thank you to all my reviewers! I love all of you!!!

Kyotyred – Thank you thank you _thank you_!!! _Finally_! Someone that approves of what I'm doing! Yay! *hugs Kyotyred* you are _such_ an understanding person…*grins*…glad you enjoyed the fic…

Draco Ephram Lover – Really?!?! Yay! At least _one _person wanted to cry…*grins*…that's what I've been aiming to do all along…anyway, get you tissue box ready…this will be the last chapter that will contain any form of angst for a while…though I can't say anything for the later chapters…don't want to spoil the surprise *laughs*

Ivy – actually, that was the whole point…that's what makes his trust for someone so precious…

Some anonymous person – (I quote: "I feel sick. *pukes*) Really? *rises eyebrows* I thought I've warn people like you away? And I really don't think the previous chapter was _that _bad really…I've seen worse…maybe that's because I'm just a sadist *shrugs*. Anyway, get a basin in front of you…this chapter _may_ be worse…

In Silent Lucidity – Yep…coming back to the present now…Sev will make an appearance somewhere in the end…

Demonic Angel – I _like _you! Bwahahaha!!! Sadism rules!!! *diabolic laughter* Problem is, I don't see many stories with enough vivid Harry-torture scenes. Do you know any? Tell me if you do!!! *begs*

NiaSphinx – Thank you for the sites! They were great! *grins* And slash stories are really nice! As long as you read the right ones…have you read Midnight Blue's, Artemis Luna Diana's and Starkindler's fics? They rock! All Harry/Severus too…don't they just look great with each other? *swoons*

Maven – Thank you for that site…it's great…

Selina – Thank you *bows deeply*…I'm glad you enjoyed it…(you _did_, didn't you?)

Npetrenko – You know, I think you've been my most faithful reviewer so far…*grins*…thanks a lot! *hugs npetrenko*

Yaoi Princess Serena – It wasn't _that_ hard…maybe I'm just too much of a sadist *laughs*…anyway, thanks for your support!

bluebird161221 – Now now…calm down *offers tissue paper*… all that's good have to end some time or other…besides, poor Harry deserves some sort of break from the evil Dursleys now don't he? *grins*

Jess Scefing – I'm glad…I strife to be evil…*grins*…thanks for that link, though it does not have any English-Latin translators…thanks anyway *smiles*

Optional – Life _is_ unfair…we just have to deal with it…but don't worry…they'll be tried sometime or other once Harry recovers…I just haven't decided with what the verdict should be yet…till then, just enjoy the fic…

SparkySparkles – Yep…Sev would be back in action soon…he'll help…*grins*

Silvermoon – I know I know…I was just getting to that…be patient…

yume ninite jitsuzai – Yes, Sev will be here soon…thanks for the link by the way…

Cera – I love them too…*grins*…great minds think alike…here's more…

Silverwolf – Yep, you're a sadist…but then again, so am I…*grins* Anyway, Sev will be here soon…just read on…

Frankie the Wonder Wiener Dog – Thank you for the sites…I really appreciate your help…*grins*

Butterfly – Thanks for the link…though it didn't help much…still, I really appreciated it. *smiles* Glad you loved the fic…Sev will come soon…be patient…

Moi – You know…the way you reviewed, it kind of made me wonder why the hell you persevered till chapter 10…after I've _warned_ you about the pairing too…*shrugs*…you are one weird person…by the way, I detest H/C pairings (sorry H/C fans)…I don't think it would work…

PissedoffEskimo – You know, I really loved your fics…you are a GREAT author *gushes*…I got hooked just this few days ago and had already added you to my fav list! *grins* Glad you liked it…

R.Mike – Nope, I'm a Singaporean, which is near enough…and in case you're wondering, Singapore's right at the southern tip of Malaysia. And I never said I was nice, did I? *winks* (*looks up* ok…maybe I did…) Anyway, the new chapter's here…enjoy… (I was wondering…are you a guy? Because all the people I know that read slash are girls…and most guys seem to be repulsed by it…so…)

Faithless – Actually, Harry's _supposed_ to be OOC…after all, his life _was_ different from JKR's version…I'm currently working on a split personality…it happens to people under extreme stress. As for Severus, no one _really _knows what he's like do they? He doesn't appear enough in the books…so this is my version…bear with it if you want to read it…*winks*

Maddy – Don't worry about it…I'm getting back anyway…enjoy…

Right…that was a lot of wasted space wasn't it? Nearly as long as the chapter itself…*shrugs* Anyway, on with the story…

(I dedicate this to Kyotyred because I really liked her review *grins*)

A Fallen Angel

By chibi_tenshi

I woke up once again from yet another traumatizing nightmare of mine…woke up again in the dark, dingy room, naked, chained to my bed and unable to move a single muscle without hurting. I have no idea how long I have been locked up in here. Time seemed to be almost non-existent in this place…my personal hell. 

The Dursleys had declared me unfit for work sometime before, when I could not even push myself off the floor, regardless of the trouncing I had been given. They'd just dumped me back into my bed and left. I think I heard Aunt Petunia grumbling about how she was going to get her all housework done without me…

Dudley has taken an interest in me, particularly with his father's urgings. He started coming in during the days. He has a sadistic streak, just as Uncle had, only worse. He enjoyed having me writhing in agony beneath his immense bulk, loved to watch my crumpled look as my body betrayed me when he forced me to orgasm. He took pleasure in using every single one of the items on that small, inconspicuous table, savoring the moments whereby he violated my privacy…invaded my personal space. Dildos, cock rings, collars, whips, blindfolds…he knew exactly what to do to destroy me the way his father never had…

It seemed like eons since I last ate -- at the End-of-Year Feast at Hogwarts. I wonder what they would do if they could see me now? The Boy-Who-Lived, the One-Fated-To-Exterminate-Voldemort…bollocks in my opinion…I couldn't even defend myself against my _muggle_ relatives. Voldemort would probably split his coronary arteries and die of shock if he ever found out that the Dursleys had succeeded in what he could not…succeeded in breaking me, ripping me apart piece by piece and stomping hard on my remains.

Great…I'm getting cynical now…reminds me of Professor Snape really (now why in the _world_ am I thinking about him?)…being locked in a room with nothing else to think of could do that to a person. Especially when I don't want to think of other things…better to laugh at yourself than to wallow in self-pity.

I burrowed into my bed, trying to derive some semblance of warmth from it. My bed sheets had been ripped apart during one of my 'sessions' and it was never replaced. I'm glad it's summertime...I think. I don't need the bitter chill of winter to add to my misery, but it may help distract my mind off these depressing issues. Ok…I'm contradicting myself, aren't I? …I might be going insane…not that I don't deserve it…

It's evening now. Dudley had just left a little while ago. Uncle would be having his turn with me soon…

A soft sound came from the outside…someone cursing fluidly at something. Then, came the squeaks and clicks from the locks outside the door. I steeled myself for the inevitable, screwing my eyes shut as I dug even deeper into the mattress.

_He_ stepped into the room. I thought I heard a faint gasp, but I dismissed it as my overactive imagination. It is not the first time I'm hearing voices in my head after all. _He_ just stood there for a while, delighting in torturing me with _his_ mere presence. My nervousness steadily grew. I shifted a little, wanting _him_ to just get this over and done with. I could almost feel _his_ eyes burning a hole through my skin.

Suddenly, the room was lit up in a faint, eerie bluish glow that I could detect through my eyelids. Another gasp. This time, I reacted, slowly turning over to face _him_, only to find that it wasn't _him_ at all. This figure was too tall, too slim to be _him_. I was only beginning to relax a little when he (Definitely a he. His face was too angular, and his features were too sharp to belong to a female) reached out to touch me. I flinched, backing as far away from the hand as possible without falling off the bed.

I saw something shiny trail down the figure's eye…was he crying? Before I could figure that out, he stomped downstairs. There was a brief conversation taking place…almost an argument I think…was he here to get me out of this hellhole? Come to think of it, he did _look_ rather familiar, not that I could see much with the dim lighting and my horrible eyesight (though I'm more or less used to this by now, and could discern movements around me, even with the fuzzy edges)…

I could feel some hope returning to me as the figure swept in again and our eyes met. I know those eyes…I've seen them several times before somewhere…someone from Hogwarts, and from his height, he's probably a professor…someone coming to my rescue…to _help_…

He tore his eyes away after a while, shaking his head slightly, a movement so small that it was impossible to spot unless you knew what you were looking for, as I did. He seemed to be clearing some thought as he unlocked the manacles trapping me.

He accidentally stepped on the floorboard covering my little hidey-hole as he moved closer to the bed, making it creak rather loudly. He then bent down, and upon the discovery of the hole and its contents, he shrunk them and levitated them into his pocket with his wand, leaving only my invisibility cloak, which he wrapped around me. 

Then, he lifted me off the bed. I barely suppressed the wince as my entire body burned like an inferno, my muscles and bones screaming in protest at being moved so suddenly. After a while, when the pain finally died down, I started to savor the warmth beside me, and snuggled into the robes. I've never done this before, and it felt _good_. I would have purred contentedly if my throat had not felt like parched sand at the moment. The man had stiffened a little when I hugged him. I suppose he was not used to cuddling too, but he relaxed after a while.

He pulled out something from a pocket. With a whisper, "Hogwarts", the world disappeared into a swirly vortex of colors before finally settling down into black.

***

(A/N It would be great to end here wouldn't it? With a nice cliffie to boot! However, I have an even better cliffhanger in mind below…read on, and find out…)

***

_/Dream/_

Black figures again…Death Eaters…surrounding me, cornering me, suffocating me, staring at me with those sightless black eyes…

The warmth I had felt earlier slowly distanced itself from me. The light drifted farther and farther away.

I reached out for it frantically, not wanting my only source of comfort to disappear. 'Don't leave me!' I tried to say, only to find that words refused to leave my throat to form at my lips. I struggled harder, desperate to retain that little bit of light in my world…

And it came back…back to my side…softly caressing me, whispering soothing words into my ear. I sighed, sedated, allowing the peaceful darkness to claim me once again.

_/End Dream/_

***

When I woke up from another particularly terrible nightmare, I felt the momentary panic seize me when I thought about how last night was only a dream, a fantasy my mind made up to temporarily relief itself from the horror that subsides in it. It was only when I found myself free of my restraints that I began to calm down. I looked around warily, curious as to where I was, though anything would seem like heaven when compared to the Dursleys.

Something stirred beside me, and I instinctively swerved my gaze towards it.

Raven black eyes met emerald green ones…

***

TBC

Ok! It's done! How was it? I got Sev out…Just as I had promised, even if it was only a small lil' portion...*grins* The next chapter would be in Sev's POV. Honest! So **REVIEW** if you ever want me to post it *evil cackle*


	11. Snape's POV 04

Author's Notes: Right…this chapter is _finally_ out…I assure you that I had the hardest time writing it…*grumbles*…I apologize beforehand for any OOC-ness on Sev's part…I just can't seem to get him in character… 

Anyway, school's reopening soon…on Thursday. I have the GCEs coming up later in the year, and I just _know_ that the teachers would be piling us up with chunks of work to do, if that stack of holiday homework I had to complete was any indication. I _swear_ it's almost one inch thick! This means that you probably won't get any updates too often…I terribly sorry…stupid exams…

So…enjoy this chapter…

By the way…thanks for all the reviews…I won't be responding to them 'cos I want this out now…*smiles*

A Fallen Angel 

By chibi_tenshi

I woke up once again in the hospital wing, my back aching from the awkward position I've been in all night. It seemed almost like a ritual now: wake up, stretch a little, check on Potter, eat, check on Potter, maybe read a little, check on Potter again, and sleep. I would have snorted at my near obsessive attitude towards my once nemesis. But it was choked down when I was met with bright emerald green eyes, tinged with fear, like a weaponless person caught in Voldemort's wandpoint (yes, I don't fear that insufferable fool that thinks he could take over the world by being nasty to people. I just hate him…a lot…), as I did my customary scan on Potter's well being.

I was taken by surprise, since Poppy had told me that he would probably be in a coma for at least 3-4 weeks while his body took time to heal properly. I believe I was…what some might call – gaping wide-mouthed like a goldfish in a tank, an uncouth but somewhat appropriate portrayal of my current state.

As it is, I failed to notice his attempts at calling for my attention until I felt the weak nudge against my knee.

"P-Professor Snape?" Startled out of my reverie, I looked down at the boy. It seemed to have taken a lot out of him just to voice out that short question. I had to fight down the familiar swell of rage at the thought of exactly what had happened to the poor boy and _who_ did it to him.

I managed to grind out a harsh "Yes?", only to see him wince and back away from me. I couldn't help but sigh and reach out to pull him back gently, schooling my features into what I hoped was a concerned and reassuring gaze as I said, "Don't worry, you are safe now. Nobody would harm you."

He relaxed a little, asking, "Professor? Where am I?"

"You're in the Infirmary." At his questioning look, I elaborated, "Poppy decided to give you your own room, so you won't be bothered by some of the people from Hogsmeade that occasionally come to seek treatment."

"Hogwarts?"

I nodded. "Yes, you are in Hogwarts now."

He smiled -- a smile that seemed to light up his entire face. "Hogwarts…home…I'm home again…" he whispered, before he dug into his pillows and fell back into a deep slumber.

It was only now that I remembered that I was supposed to inform Poppy when Potter woke up. Untangling my hand from its position beneath Potter's back, I hurried towards Poppy's office.

"Poppy! Potter had just awoken a few minutes ago. He went ba-" I was rudely cut off when Poppy rushed past me and into Potter's room. Really, the woman has no manners whatsoever, even if she is a great healer.

I followed behind at a slower pace, and found her beside Potter's bed, taking his pulse, temperature, etc. I could hear her tutting, murmuring under her breath about how I _should_ have gotten her immediately when Potter awoke, _not _waiting till he had fallen asleep again. I restrained myself from protesting indignantly, since it was childish and could prove disastrous to my already wavering reputation as the strict, uptight 'Greasy Git of a Potions' Master' as some students like to call me.

I stood patiently aside as she fussed over her patient, until she finally left, with the orders to make Potter drink something when he awoke, as well as stuffing some Numbing, Restorative and other various healing potions into my hands in cases of need.

I settled back in The Chair (as I've came to name it) beside his bed, propping up my book ("To Kill A Mockingbird" by Harper Lee…yes, despite popular belief, being a Slytherin does _not _automatically label you as a muggle-hater, and I _do_ read muggle books if they are deemed to be worth reading…) on my lap. However, try as I might, I could not seem to concentrate on the text, the words whirling together to form a dark, un-comprehendible vortex while my mind wandered off to ponder about this enigma, also known as Harry Potter…

From what Poppy had revealed of his diagnoses, the abuse had been on going for quite a long period of time. The scars I had seen on the boy's back were at least years old, and yet, no reports had been made to the authorities about the boy's condition.

 According to Albus, who had sent people down where the boy lived to enquire around, none of the neighbors or ex-school teachers had even noticed anything wrong with the boy.

 Arabella Figg, Potter's secret keeper-cum-babysitter, claimed that she was not aware of any abnormalities in Potter's behavior, except for the fact that he is a little shy when it came to socializing. 

Not even his Gryffindor friends and the Hogwarts teaching staff saw any evidences that pointed towards abuse. His own dorm-mates had never came forward to point out his scars…

This leads to showing that he was either a natural at acting, or he was used to playing pretend in front of the world in general, and I highly doubt it was the first reason. Then, one would question about when his relatives had started this bout of abuse, since you would need to be conditioned at a tender age for you to be so accustomed to covering up any signs of mistreatment. Not even muggles like the Dursleys could ill-treat a toddler…could they?

And then, there is also a question of why Potter never saw fit to inform an adult about his abusive relatives. Half the wizarding world would have their wands pointed at the Dursleys before you could say '_Avada Kedavra_' for daring to harm their child wonder. Was this the reason why Potter never told – because he did not want any harm to descend upon his 'family'? I highly doubt this…after all, even if he _was_ a Gryffindor, no one could be _that_ self-sacrificial…right? So, why is there this nagging voice in my head telling me that this was exactly what Potter is like and I bloody well know it?

Sighing, I put away my book, knowing that I'm too distracted now to accomplish much. Somehow, I could not help but compare Potter's childhood with mine, different, but yet so much the same. As a Death Eater's child, I had my future planned out for me since before I was born. The 'right way of thinking' had been ingrained in my psyche through countless reprimands and occasional beatings…it may not be as harsh as Potter's life, but it was still bad enough as compared to others. I never had much freedom in what I really wanted to do as a child, and Hogwarts was my only refuge, the place I truly consider to be home…it seems like Potter has the same outlook…

***

Albus had been in a lot, working about his busy schedule and making time to visit. He looked more like his age now, the wrinkles showing on his weary face whenever he saw the comatose child on the bed. I think he feels guilty about leaving the boy with his abusive relatives without actually bothering to make periodic checks on his well-being.

He had been trying to get me to leave Potter's side for a while, to at least go back to my dungeons for a good night's rest. However, for some strange, unknown reason, I felt compelled to stay, especially since he tends to get really restless whenever I so much as step out of the infirmary. The fact that I promised Lily to look after her son may also have added to my reluctance to leave. Lily was my only true friend in school, a Slytherin as I am (which was why I was so surprised at her's and James Potter's marriage). I had broken my promise once, and I intend not to do that again, no matter what it takes…

***

TBC

**Answers to some questions:**

The story will continue normally from here right? – Yes, except for some occasional flashbacks here and there…

What the dream was supposed to mean – Remember? In chapter 3? I mentioned that Harry kept thrashing around when Sev left his side…the dream kind of explains it…Sev happens to be the 'light' thingy in the dream, though Harry doesn't know it…

Right…with that aside…how did you enjoy this chapter? Hopefully, it was ok to most of you out there…again, I apologize for my horrible personification of Sev's personality…

Anyway, I'll post the next chapter ASAP…please **REVIEW**!!!


	12. Confessions

**Author's Notes:** I just noticed that I've been starting the recent three chapters with the words "I woke up…" *grins*…I assure you that I did not do it on purpose…

Right…I know I've been an utter idiot…not having updated this for goodness knows _how_ long. Blame it on my maths teacher…the horrible git gave us homework every single day. Add all the tests we've been having…*shrugs*…it's a miracle that I've yet to have a nervous breakdown.

This chapter was a _lot_ longer than I had expected it to be…well, hopefully, this will be enough to satisfy you for a while…I have no idea when I'll next update…enjoy it while you can…

Just a note to some…there _will_ be some mentions of abuse in this chapter…it's not a lot, just a slight PG-13 I guess, so consider yourselves warned. Major angst coming up too…

**A Fallen Angel**

By chibi_tenshi

I woke up from a surprisingly peaceful slumber and started when I saw that I was not in my room. I stared around at the whitewashed walls, the sparkling white bed sheets, and the neat array of various vials and bottles in a cupboard beside my bed. The events from the previous night (or was it even last night? How long have I been out of it?) came rushing back to me…the rescue…Snape…

I felt, rather than saw, something shift on my left. Turning, I found someone resting his head on my bed…asleep. Finding my glasses at the bedside table, I put it on and started studying the figure before me. It was Professor Snape…I'd recognize his hair anywhere, so fine that it looked almost greasy. It was totally black, as in soot-colored black. I've never seen hair this color of midnight before. Mine only _looks_ black…it actually has a dark, reddish tint to it if you looked carefully enough.

I had been observing him for ages now, since the Yule Ball last year actually. It was actually an accident…one might call it a work by the fates actually…

_/Flashback/_

I left the Ball as soon as I could because it was getting rather boring. After finally ditching Ron in the Gryffindor common room, I had grabbed my invisibility cloak and went up to my favorite thinking spot up in the Astronomy Tower. I had been frequenting the area ever since Cho declined my invitation for the Ball. (Malfoy had somehow caught on about it and was teasing me everytime he passed me in the hallways, and I needed a refuge of sorts, so I somehow, unwitting, wandered up the Tower and found a really cozy room tucked right at the top behind the viewing room…) Anyway, imagine my surprise when I found someone already sitting on _my_ comfy couch by the window. I know this is childish and unreasonable of me, but I'd been hanging out here for almost a month, _alone_, and _someone_ came and claimed _my_ seat!

I was about to storm up and repossess my couch when the figure shifted and her (his?) hair caught a bit of the moonlight peeking out from behind a cloud, giving it a luminous quality, like shiny silk, with the color of the darkest night, a delightful contrast to what I could see of her fair, supple-looking skin. 

As the cloud moved away, the light from the full moon illuminated the room. I could well see the figure now, little broad at the shoulders, arms resting on either sides of the couch, long legs stretched out in front of him. It's…_he's_ a male… lean, yet radiating a sense of power. It was as if there was a halo surrounding him, making him look almost…ethereal.

I felt my breath caught for some weird reason, and struggled to regain some sort of control, but my heart couldn't help but quicken its pace as the figure slowly turned around to face me, as if he had heard my gasp.

He turned…and I came face to face with _Professor Snape_…of all people! The Bane-Of-Gryffindor, the Enemy-Of-Sirius-Black, the Greasy Git, the one that hated me ever since he first set his eyes on me, the one that saved me from Quirrel's stupid jinx in First Year…did I miss anything? Oh yeah, the same man that was making me lose my control just mere seconds ago (it's a near impossible feat really, with my life and all)…Ron would faint…

Still, as I studied him more closely, he looked almost sad…melancholy would be a better word…like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, like he was bearing an immense burden that was slowly crushing him, suffocating him, as the days go by. Up here alone, with all his masks dropped, he looked almost…human…a very cute one at that…

'OH MY GOD! Did I just think that?' I looked around for hospital attendants from St. Mungo's to come swooping down at me…and accidentally crashed into the small stool right behind me.

At the sudden noise, he leapt up from the seat, masks slipping back in place as he scanned the area while growling a low "Who's there?"

I hurriedly backed out of the room, ignoring how my heart had skipped a beat at his deliciously husky tenor, and fled back to Gryffindor Tower.

_/End Flashback/_

I had been thinking about him ever since, observing him when he was not looking, seeing him in a whole new light…(A/N Let's just say that he conveniently forgot that he was checking out the professor…De'Nile isn't just a river in Egypt after all…) he was like me really, living a life that revolved around Voldemort's existence, a life which had been planned out ever since we were mere children, a life whereby we had to live up to the expectations of the people around us – Voldemort and the Death Eaters for his case, and the rest of the Wizarding world for mine…

We were bound to our duty, his as a spy, and mine as the supposed savior of the world. There was no escape, no way out, because that was what people had expected from us. I was afraid to say 'no', afraid to see the disappointment, the despair on everyone's faces should I refuse to accept this duty entrusted to me ever since I was one. 

As for him, was it his way of repenting for all the crimes that he had committed for allying with Voldemort as one of the Death Eaters? Did he even became a Death Eater willingly, or did Voldemort coerce him into it? Could it be that he had been working for Dumbledore all along, and only joined Voldemort because they needed a spy in the ranks?

Yes, we really are similar, doing our best to help a world that turns their back on us the moment we did something wrong. And despite better judgment, I felt myself desiring to know more about this intriguing man beside me, about his experiences, his thoughts, his feelings about this unfair, cruel world that we reside in…I wanted to know the real him, the one behind the sneers and scowls, the one behind the intricate façade that he had put up…

Gradually, once I put all my prejudices aside, I began to understand his snappiness in class…I began to understand why he treated the Slytherins differently from the way he handled the Gryffindors…I began to understand why he treated me the way he did and yet still saved my life about a million times throughout my career at Hogwarts so far…

And when I did, I couldn't help but admire, and to respect him…he had guarded the school and protected the students without complaint…he had been keeping the students in place, preparing them for the harsh realities of the world while the other teacher continued to pamper them…he had been the only available anchor for Slytherins, helping them and standing up for them whenever he could when others treated them as outcasts and Voldemort-wannabes…he did all these and more, but all he got in return was people shunning him, badmouthing him behind his back, and accusing looks. He even had to endure Azkaban once, while real crooks like Lucius Malfoy and Avery McNair got away scout-free…

As I had said, he fascinated me. Even now, as he laid beside me asleep, he looked so troubled…worried about something…and I was unable to resist the temptation, raising my hand to his face to smooth out the frown, before moving on to run my fingers through his hair. It was soft…soft as silk, as the smoothest velvet. As he stirred, I hurriedly snatched back my hands. He slowly looked up and blinked…

***

Snape stirred from his sleep when he felt something sift through his hair. Lifting his head up slowly, he opened his eyes…and blinked when the bright sunlight attacked them.

He saw Harry staring intently at him behind those impossibly long lashes and sat up straight, suddenly feeling very much awake.

He reached for the vials on the table behind him and began measuring out the liquids carefully before mixing them in a plain, sterile goblet. He then brought Harry into a sitting position, pressed the goblet to his mouth and gently coaxed the mixture down his throat, which wasn't working very well because of the weeklong starvation. 

Harry was too busy gaping at the unexpected kindness his Professor was showing that he didn't notice the cooling sensation as the liquid slid down his gullet and relaxed the muscles. It was only when Snape laid him back on the bed and exited the room when the fact finally sank in…he actually looked worried about him…like he cared…and no one had ever seemed to truly care about him…until now…

Harry allowed himself a small smile at this before it turned into a frown again. Best not to get his hopes up…he was still hurting from the last time this happened…

Then, Madam Pomfrey entered the room, followed by a rather grumpy looking Snape. He stood with his back against the wall, scowling as Pomfrey fussed over Harry like a mother hen would her chicks, asking him all sorts of questions and subjecting him to different healing potions and spells.

It was in the midst of this all when Dumbledore entered, a slight twinkle returning to his eyes when he saw Harry well again. Once Pomfrey was done with whatever routine checks she had to make, she stepped aside to allow the Headmaster access to the boy.

Harry sighed in resignation at the sight of the Headmaster, knowing from that _look_ that he was in for a lot of awkward questionings.

"Harry," Dumbledore began. "I know it would be hard for you, but we need to know what happened to you over the past week…"

"Professor, does Sirius know?" Harry cut in, hoping to stall for time by bringing up another topic.

"I've sent an owl out to look for him. But he's somewhere in Russia on a mission and it might take days, weeks even for the letter to reach him, considering Russia's landmass. Remus is with him, so they would probably arrive together sometime later. I have not yet told him about your…injuries…I was rather afraid that he might overreact and hex the Dursleys into next week before _Avada Kedavra_-ing them on the spot, which won't do at all since it would only earn him a further sentence in Azkaban…" Dumbledore sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before continuing.

"Harry, we need to know who did this to you so we could hand out suitable punishments to the culprits. Child abuse is a very serious offense in the Wizarding World, especially since the Wizarding population has been dwindling for quite some time…"

"I got knocked down by a car when I was out shopping…" Harry muttered.

"I hardly think a car accident would give you whip lashes on your back Mr. Potter. It would be best for your own interests if you could just tell us the truth," Snape drawled out from where he was standing, ignoring Harry's glare.

"How did you know to come and find me?" Harry asked, changing the subject yet again.

Dumbledore answered this time, after quieting Snape with a _Look_. "We had news about Voldemort attacking Privet Drive because he somehow found out about your residence there." Seeing Harry's troubled look, he reassured him. "We managed to evacuate all the muggles living there and got some Aurors placed there in time to handle the attack. No one was killed, thankfully, and we managed to convince the Minister that Voldemort has, indeed, returned after interrogating the Death Eaters we had captured under the Vertiserum…"

"Harry, we really need you to tell us if the Dursleys did this to you…we need evidence to take you out of their custody and give them a proper trial. I know it would be hard to talk about it, but we _need _to _know_…when did this start? Why didn't you tell anyone about it? You have to trust us Harry…you have to trust us for us to be able to protect you properly…"

"I…I can't…please…" Harry choked out as he forced down his tears. He would _not_ cry…he had sworn never to cry again just two days into his stay with the Dursley…he was _not_ weak damn it!

"Harry…please…we _want_ to help. But we can't if you don't cooperate with us…tell us…" Dumbledore said gently, cradling Harry's hand in an attempt to soothe his frazzled nerves. "Let it out Harry…it's not healthy to bottle everything inside under lock and key…let it all out…cry if you want to…everyone needs release once in a while, when things get too rough. It's not weak to show your tears. Let it all out Harry…tell us…we are here to help…trust us…"

Under Dumbledore's calming tone, Harry couldn't help but bury his face in the pillow and sob. He was unaware of the hand rubbing his head comfortingly as he drowned in the torrents of emotion he had kept hidden for so long. Dumbledore brought him up into his arms, petting his back when Harry leaned in and wept on his shoulders.

When Harry's sobs finally subsided, he smiled and said, "Now, don't you feel much better?"

And he did too. It was as if a huge, suffocating weight on his chest had been removed, leaving his heart much lighter than before. He wiped away his tears with his sleeves, then scrambling back to his bed in embarrassment when he found himself sitting on the Headmaster's lap.

"Now Harry, would you mind telling us what had happened to you? Starting from the beginning maybe? From whatever event that led up to this?" Dumbledore said encouragingly.

Harry hesitated a little, still unwilling to dive into those unpleasant memories that he would prefer to forget. However, after one look in Dumbledore's eyes, - he couldn't help it, really - he found himself spilling out everything…

"I've been a sort of punching bag for them ever since I could remember…the little freak living in the cupboard-under-the-stairs…the good-for-nothing little twerp that deserves nothing but a thorough beating every once in a while to 'put him in his place'…Dudley loved 'playing' with me…" All these was said in a monotonous, detached tone.

"And when I was able to walk properly without falling over, Aunt Petunia made me learn how the sweep the floor…I was 3, I think, and they even bought a smaller broomstick for me so I have no excuses about not being able to lift it up…I learnt how to mop the floor too, and weed the garden. I was forced to start cooking for the family at 5…once I was tall enough to reach the saucepan on a stool. I remembered getting burnt so often (you can't dodge the oil when you are on a stool) that I started to become immune to the pain…Aunt Petunia wasn't happy about them…they drew too much attention and she had to spend time rubbing cream on the burns to stop people from asking questions. I first went out grocery shopping at 6, I think. I met with a pickpocket once…Uncle Vernon was so mad at me that he locked me in my cupboard without food for two weeks. They had to let me out at Christmas though…needed help with the decorations and stuff." Harry couldn't help but grin sardonically when he saw the Professors' shocked expressions.

"The worst year by far was when I was in second grade…Uncle Vernon's company was doing badly…I think it was because of some new rival company…I remember coming home for the summer holidays…Uncle just pulled me into the house and started yelling at me and beating me up…he just threw me back into my cupboard when he got tired. That continued on for a while…whatever I did was wrong, and I got punished for it…he even punched me once because I 'breathed too loudly'…"

Harry paused here, inhaling deeply and continued when he saw the reassuring glint in the Headmaster's eye.

"He began to drink…got drunk every single night before he got home…and then, one evening, when Aunt Petunia brought Dudley out to the sweet shop at the market just a little way down the drive, he pulled me out of the cupboard…there was this horrible grin on his face…" at this, Harry's breath started to quicken and he looked down on his bedsheets, not wanting to meet his Professors' eyes…

"'Happy Birthday, Harry'…that was all he said…'Happy Birthday'…then he ripped off my clothes and started coming down on me…" He broke off, struggling to control his quivers before he resumed his talking, still refusing to look up. 

"I didn't know what he was doing then…all I knew was that it hurt…it hurt so much, like I was burning up on the inside as he came down again and again." Here, he gave a mirthless laugh. "I ran all the way to the toilet after Madam Pomfrey's sex talk in the third year…all those times, he was using me as his own personal whore, and I didn't even realize that…"

"He stopped drinking though…after a year or so…after that other drill company moved over to the States. The rapes more or less stopped too…he only came on occasions when he was really furious about something or other. Aunt Petunia found out after a while…said I seduced her husband and hit me with a frying pan…she got a lot meaner afterwards." All this was delivered in a bitter voice.

"Then this summer, something happened again I guess…probably Uncle's drill company. So, basically, they hit, starved and raped me for a week until Professor Snape came in…and you know the rest…" he trailed off, staring at his hands for a while before he gathered up enough courage to raise his head…and found Snape staring at him in horror while Dumbledore was looking at him with something akin to pity, and not without a little sadness and regret. He looked away again…surprise, shock, and even anger…he could deal with all these…just not pity…he hated it when someone pitied him…it made him feel worthless…useless…like he couldn't protect himself, not that he could. After all, he let the Dursleys have their way with him didn't he?

He hated himself…he hated himself for his disability to defend himself against the Dursleys…he hated himself for not dying with his parents that one Halloween night…he hated himself for failing to save Cedric in time…he hated himself for allowing the Dark Lord to come into being once more…he hated himself for being unable to help in all those visions he had on the Death Eaters' attacks…and most of all, he hated himself for living, for continuing his pathetic existence while others fall one by one around him…he hated himself…

***

Snape stared in horror at the boy in front of him (though he was quick to cover it with his usual stony mask) as he listed out this childhood events as if they were merely everyday conversation topics exchanged during mealtimes. He didn't know what to think about the Potter child anymore…the sight of him beaten, tattered and broken in his own home had messed his whole perception, and Severus Snape detested being told that he was wrong.

He regretted being so mean to the boy the past few years…he had thought that he had been pampered at home, that he was simply a spoilt brat…he was afraid that all the attention from the Wizarding public would blow up his already inflated ego. He had never expected it to turn out like this…it seemed like such a good reason then, to taunt the boy because he was jealous of what he thought was a glamorous childhood that the boy led…but he was wrong…so very wrong…and he _hated_ being shown that he was wrong…

***

He felt the guilt clench at his heart as he heard the boy narrate his terrible childhood…every word stabbed at him like a pointed spear, and he was unable to stop the guilt and regret from showing.

It had been said that Albus Dumbledore was not one to be easily surprised, for he was wise beyond his years and had accumulated plenty of experience from his long, hard life. But he had never saw this coming, never realized that he had condemned someone into a life of abuse and torture when he made his decision to leave Harry Potter in the hands of his relatives that fateful night, near 14 years ago…

Looking at the trembling boy in front of him, he could practically _feel _the waves for self-loathing and despair radiating from the frail figure. He found that, for the first time in more than 90 years, he was uncertain about what to do…the boy had been through so much, and asked for so little…

Sighing, he reached over to raise Harry's head to face him.

"Harry…Harry, look at me…I'm sorry that I put you in the care of the Dursleys, I'm sorry that we failed to protect you from all those…but, why didn't you tell anyone about this? Why didn't you tell _us_ about this earlier? When you first came to Hogwarts? We would have helped you then, brought you away from them…"

Harry struggled to move away from his grip, at Dumbledore's determined gaze, he slumped back, defeated…

"I tried to…so many times, when I was younger…but who would believe me? It was my word against theirs…people thought that I was lying, just another child trying to gain some attention…so I gave up…it seemed so pointless…"

"But you could have told us, Harry…we would have believed you…"

"When I was 6, I told my gym teacher. She told me to trust her…she told me that she'll help…she told me that she'll never let the Dursleys harm me ever again…and I believed her. I told her everything, showed her all my marks, and cried on her shoulders. I stupidly believed her…and she turned her back on me and told the Dursleys about what I had said. I trusted her and she betrayed me the very instant she could. I didn't go back to school for 3 weeks after that…I couldn't…the Dursleys were furious…it was ages before I could lie down properly without fainting from the pain. They told the school that I had chicken pox, and that I was too contagious. I never told anyone after that…"

"Oh Harry…but you could have trusted us…you know you can…"

"Do I? The world had turned it's back against me for more times than I could count…after I lost 50 points for Gryffindor in the first year, after the rumors about me being the Heir of Slytherin in the second year, after the Triwizard incident in the Fourth year…I don't know who to trust anymore…I just don't…" Harry shook his head despairingly.

"Harry…there _are_ still people out there who care…I care…so does Sirius, and Remus…there is your friend Hermione, and the Weasleys…the Professors care too, even Professor Snape…"

"I suppose…" said Harry, though the dubious tone was obvious…

Dumbledore sighed again, saying, "Rest now, Harry…you must be tired out…"

And indeed he was. He fell asleep again as soon as his head touched the pillow, not noticing Dumbledore's retreat, nor did he notice Snape settling down back in The Chair and watching him with an indefinable expression on his features…

***

TBC

So…how was it? It seemed like a good place to end…

I've decided not to do a 'love at first sight' scene…it's too unrealistic…they'll probably continue to fight for a while once Harry recovers…there'll be a Sirius-scene somewhere…then the Trial for the Dursleys (any suggestions for what to sentence them with?)…I'm still debating over whether Harry would tell Ron and 'Mione about the summer or not, before the Trial that is, since the abuse would probably be public knowledge after that…I don't know…still trying to decide whether Harry and Sev should get together before or after the holidays end…*sighs*…any opinions?

Oh…one more thing…does Remus have brown hair? What is his eye color? And Sirius? I believe he has black hair, no? And his eyes? *sheepish grin* I don't have the third book at hand…

Anyway, please **REVIEW** people!


	13. Convulsions and Restriants

**Author's Notes**: I'm really sorry I had not updated this sooner. And I have no excuse for that…I was just too lazy, and had too many fics to read. Thank you to all my reviewers…for not ganging up to murder me for not updating sooner! I shall attempt to finish the whole fic before OotP comes out, to prevent any discrepancies that may occur. Until then, enjoy…

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**A Fallen Angel**

By chibi_tenshi

It was a few days after the horrifying revelations about Harry Potter's life. Once he had ensured that Potter's condition had stabilized and that he was in no immediate danger, Severus Snape had moved back into his cool (if a little drafty) dungeons, claiming that he had some Important Matters to attend to.

Dumbledore had a damn _/twinkle/_ in his eyes when he had tried to make a dignified sweep out of the Infirmary. (A/N I /_swear_/ he uses magic to do that!) Pomfrey had just arched her eyebrows and lifted her lips in a slight smile, giving him an infuriating knowing look! Of course, no one would believe that he was retreating back into his haven because of work. After all, he did not even believe himself, as good an excuse as he had thought it was when he first came up with it.

A little of it had been because of his aching joints and bones. His back had been killing him for staying in that restrictive and most uncomfortable Chair for such extensive periods of time. He was not as young as he once was, though he would rather die than to admit that to anyone…he could just /_hear_/ Black gloating about it.

Another (more obvious) reason – which his brain had been trying to shy away from for quite some time – was that he was getting too close to Potter for his comfort. It was one thing to share a kind of understanding with and tentative care for the boy, but it was another thing altogether to feel protective urges for no apparent reason, and to have to overcome the urges to pull the boy into his embrace whenever he had on that vulnerable look!

So, he left the Infirmary, just to get his bearings back if nothing else…

Presently, he was comfortably engulfed by his high-quality leather couch, complete with enhanced softening charms. He was staring contemplatively into the middle of nowhere when he heard a loud shriek originating from the fireplace to his right. "SEVERUS!"

Snapped out of his ponderous mood, he swirled around (dramatically, even when seated) and snarled, "_Poppy_…I would appreciate it if you try not to pop in through my fireplace without any prior notice, and if you would kindly refrain from screaming into my eardrums the moment you…" He trailed off, taking in her flustered look.

"There's no time for verbal sparring Severus! Harry is caught in some kind of nightmare, and I can't shake him out of it!" Here, Pomfrey's voice started to take on a hysterical note, "And he is scratching at his scalp with his hands! I have him under restraints at the moment, but he started convulsing. I need the key to your stores. I've run out of calming potions and pain relievers. Could you please try to wake him? He seemed most receptive to you when he was lucid…"

Snape tried not to scowl at that. He had been avoiding the Hospital Wing /_precisely_/ because of that! And Potter cannot be normal for once. He was sure that he was faking it…he had probably anticipated the results and was laughing at the drama unfolding right now. Impertinent, attention-seeking whelp!

Still, Snape decided to humor him, in case it turned out to be real. But if he ever found out otherwise, _/somebody/_ was going to die a slow and painful death!

He undid the clasp of the chain around his neck and slid the key free. Passing it to Pomfrey, he snatched up as handful of floo powder with his free hand and flooed of to the Infirmary ("Hogwarts Infirmary! Jellybeans!") (A/N as with practically everything else with Hogwarts, you need a password to get somewhere. And since Dumbledore sets the passwords, did you really expect it to be any more…/_mature_/? *laughs*)

*****

What Pomfrey had said was still not enough to prepare him for the sight that met him when he entered Potter's private partition. Nightmares? Convulsions? He had never came across such understatements in his life!

Potter had his back arced off the bed, even with the magical lines of force restraining him around his waist. He looked like he was having a seizure, with spasms and convulsions running around his body. It would be similar to an epilepsy patient with ten _cruciatus_ curses cast on him simultaneously when he had a fit.  His face was raw and bleeding, especially around his forehead. His lips were shaped in a silent scream while his hands struggled to break free of his bounds to reach his head.

Rushing forwards to the bed, Snape held Potter's hands down, then using his weight to pin him down on the bed. This seemed to have a negative effect though, since Potter flinched away and trashed about even more wildly, attempting to throw him off, though the restrains prevented that.

Cursing Pomfrey and himself for their idiocy, he quickly loosened his grip, removed the bonds and gathered the still-convulsing boy in his arms. Gradually, the stiff body began to relax in his embrace, once the sleeping boy realized, sub-consciously, that his professor was not trying to harm him, and he drifted into a deeper, more peaceful sleep…

That was how Pomfrey found them when she returned: Harry, cradled in Snape's arms…

*****

Snape laid the sleeping boy gently back onto the bed, careful not to make any sudden movements that may jar him awake. He waited impatiently for Pomfrey to finish her ministrations before beckoning her out of the room. Once he was certain that they were safely ensconced in Pomfrey's office, with the dozens of silencing and locking charms he had put in place with a discreet flick of his hand, he turned to Pomfrey, and started speaking in a low, quiet and deceptively calm voice, "Poppy, I had assumed that with the years of experience as a Mediwitch behind you, you would have had at least /_some_/ idea on how to handle an abuse patient."

When Pomfrey attempted to interrupt heatedly, face flushed indignantly, he held up his hand to stop the anticipated tirade before it even began. "The first thing you should have learnt," he continued smoothly, "would have been the fact that one /_never_/ tries to restrain an abused patient, no matter how he seemed to be hurting himself at that moment. Calming potions would have sufficed, and when that was not available, calming /_charms_/ could be a perfectly viable substitute!"

At this, Pomfrey bowed her head, looking properly like a child in disgrace, though she was probably older than Snape himself. Now that Snape had pointed this out, she wanted to hit herself for not having thought this through earlier on. Granted, she had panicked because she had never treated an abuse case as severe as Harry's was before, and complied with the stress from having to look after the Golden Boy of the Wizarding World, seeing him so vulnerable, frail and hurt after years of thinking that the Boy-Who-Lived would always pull through everything to save the day…it had made her lose control of her thoughts and emotions. Still, a Mediwitch should /_never_/ falter, /_never_/ make such careless mistakes, for all these could cost a patient's life!

*****

Snape was fuming inwardly, how could that fool of a witch forget one of her most basic classes at such a crucial moment? If he had arrived any later, Harry may have gone /_insane_/! That was not a thought he wanted to entertain. Abuse victims, especially those that had gone through rape, were prone to avoid any form physical contact. This was why Potter's body had rebelled so violently against the bonds places on him…because memories about bonds in the past had never been pleasant.

Evidently, Pomfrey was not competent enough to ensure that Potter receives proper care and therapy, and he told her so, in that blatant and sarcastic way he was so famous for.

Pomfrey spluttered for a moment, trying to regain her bearings at this obvious insult. Then, she smirked and voiced out, "If you are so capable, Severus, why don't you take care of him yourself? I am sure you would be able to accomplish what I could not, with your advanced potion skills and the great people skills!" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm

Snape, being one that _/never/_ backs down from a challenge, accepted it without much thought.

It was only when he was safely cocooned in his warm dungeons again when he realized what he had gotten himself into…

*****

TBC

(1419 words)

A/N *blushes* Hope that was okay. I do realize it is kind of short…but there's more to come soon! Like I've said, I'm rushing to complete this before OoTP does! Did you enjoy it?

Please, **_REVIEW!!!_**

**__**

Dyan – oh dear god! I hope I haven't dug up any unpleasant memories for you! I do hope your stepfather has at least been imprisoned! Urgh! I detest cowards that find pleasure in abusing people. As for why my story is the way it is…I find that it is necessary for people to endure hardship before they learn to treasure what they have. Also, the more they suffer, the more they'll be wary against things around them, and it would be infinitely harder to earn their trust, which is why Harry's love would be so much more precious to Sev. I'm not sorry for what I've written…I would be lying…I do apologize if I had caused you any trauma from reading this, but I won't change it no matter what anyone says…

White Wolf5 - I /_did_/ mention that there's abuse! Read chapter five! I quote: "This also happens to be an abuse fic, complete with whipping, bondage and rape." And there were more before that particular chapter! That was /_before_/ when all the graphic stuff took place! It wasn't _/my/_ fault that you ignored me and continued reading now, was it? Never mind…I have replaced that with a longer and much more detailed one. I don't think there will be any more abuse scenes from now on…none that I know of anyway, so you should be safe to read on…

semirhage – I don't know if I had mentioned it or not, but I'm not going to let Harry get into a relationship until he's at least 16…and I still haven't decided what to do with Ron and ' Mione…

nobody special – From your review, you probably hate Ron too! *grins* But, I still haven't decided what to do with him, nor Draco, so that'll have to wait…and I think that Siri and Remy /_belong_/ together, and I won't object to a SB/RL/HP threesome…

Frankie the Wonder Wiener Dog – interesting…I'll check out the site…thank you. and l've read the ordinary world too…I thought it was lovely…

As for what I'm doing with the Dursleys…they are under custody…_/no one/_ can kill them…at least, not yet…there /_will_/ be a trial…it would be traumatizing for Harry, yes, but it may also act as a kind of closure…we'll see…

Anyway, thank you again to all my reviewers! Till the next chapter…REVIEW more! *grins*****


	14. The Canine Duo

**Author's Notes**: Yet another chapter done! Yay! This one is slightly longer than the last…enjoy!

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**A Fallen Angel**

By chibi_tenshi

It was a stormy night. The wind was howling in from the west, the rain pattering down on the ground in sleets. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed. A hunched, hooded figure was hurrying up a narrow, winding path, its robes in disarray and flapping about flippantly with the gale that had built up. The majestic entrance gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were looming in front of it, just about a quarter of a mile up ahead. Beside the figure was a large black dog, drenched to the skin in the rain, its tongue lolling as it jogged a little to keep up with the fast pace the figure had set.

Upon reaching the large, ornate gates, the figure pushed them open and hurried inside, anxious to get some form of shelter from the steadily worsening downpour. The dog shook the water out from its shaggy fur and onto the figure beside it. Bright eyes twinkling, it gave a doggy grin when it managed to elicit an outraged shriek from the hooded figure.

The figure allowed the cloak to fall from its back, reveal tousled brown hair and a weary face, though the chocolate brown eyes were dancing with mischief as he reached out to tackle the dog to the floor.

The dog gave a bark of surprise, landing hard on its side a great weight was thrown upon it. One would swear that it was laughing along with the man on top of him, playfully kicking out in an effort to get him off.

After a moment of lighthearted jesting, the man finally got up and brushed himself off. "Why Padfoot! You are balding! We _have_ to get you to a vet soon…"

The said dog just growled in response, as if it had understood what the man was saying.

The two strolled leisurely down the corridor, a companionable silence between them, not that the dog could talk or anything. Soon, they reached the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. "Hershey's Kisses," the man whispered softly to the statue, and it moved aside, revealing an ascending staircase that wound up to the office. The man and his companion stepped on the stairs, letting them bring them up the tower, too drained to climb after that exhausting journey back to Hogwarts.

The man knocked at the door and waited…and waited. He knocked again, but after a long while, still nobody answered the door. The dog, the one that seemed so humanoid, got impatient and started scratching at the door with its two front paws.

Finally, the door swung open, and an old, tired sounding voice came from within, permitting them access – "Come in!"

The two entered the room…even after so many years, the trinkets that decorated it never ceased to amaze them. The odds and ends that the various headmasters had collected over the past years from all around the world always managed to entrance them with their strangeness and intrigue.

Once the door was securely locked again, a small 'pop' sounded. The black dog disappeared, and a tall, filthy man took its place. He had long, dark hair decorated with some barely discernible streaks of gray, his fringe falling over his sky blue eyes. He had an almost gaunt face, the starting of some winkles were showing because of long days of travel without much rest.

The men looked towards Dumbledore with twin expectant gazes, both wondering what had cropped up that was so important that they had to abandon their mission and return to Hogwarts so soon. 

What they saw troubled them. It was rare to ever see the supposedly omnipresent Headmaster so fatigued. He seemed to be brooding over something, the twinkle was gone from his eyes, and his figure was hunched over his desk.

At length, he looked up…and blinked, as if he had just noticed the two men standing poised before him. "My apologies. I forgot that you were in here, with you being so quiet and all. There, take a seat…" he gestured absently towards the two armchairs opposite him. "Would you like any drinks? Tea perhaps?" He waved his wand and conjured two cups of tea of out thin air and handed them over to the men, who had accepted the hot fluid gratefully. "How about some chocolate? Hershey's?" The brown haired man politely declined while the other reached out for the plate floating in front of him and tucked in greedily.

"Albus…" the brown haired man started. "Did something happen? Why did you withdraw us from the mission so urgently?"

Here, the renowned Headmaster hesitated a little, as if considering how to broach a delicate subject. "Well…as you know Remus, Severus had been helping us spy on Voldemort ever since his recent rebirth…and um…he found out just a few weeks ago about Voldemort's planned attack on Privet Drive…"

"WHAT?!" He was rudely cut off by an agitated bellow from his left. "How did Voldemort find out about where Harry was living during the summer? I thought you said there were protection spells and wards surrounding the place? What about Harry? Is he safe? We have to go and get him! Before Voldie reaches him…" the dark hair man continued his rant, getting out from his comfortable position on the chair and began pacing around the room in a distressed frenzy.

He only stopped when Dumbledore held up his hand and said, "Now, Sirius, calm down! The Dark Lord had _not_ known that Harry was residing there…it was just a random attack on the muggles. And Harry is in the Hospital Wing right now. We had managed to evacuate all the residents from the neighborhood before the attack…but that is not what I called you here to talk about…"

Here, he paused again…"As I've said, Harry is in the Hospital Wing right now. Severus had gone to the Dursleys' home to personally fetch him back to Hogwarts. The problem is, we found him…hurt…apparently, he had been…abused by his relatives. There had been evidence of………rape. He just confirmed it when he woke yeste-"

Sirius, who had stood frozen at the beginning of Dumbledore's explanation, suddenly came back to live and leapt at the door, screaming, "The BASTARDS! The damn atrocities! How dare they?! HOW DARE THEY!!! I'm going to beat them into a bloody pulp! I'm going to make minced meat out of them! I'm going to hex them so bad that their descendents would feel it!!! Then, I'll KILL them!!! I'll _Avada Kedavra_ them on the spot! I'll…"

At this, Remus was shaken out of his stupor and he tackled Sirius to the floor. "Cool down you idiot! I'm not going to let you do such foolish things! Imagine how Harry would feel if you were thrown back into Azkaban for using the _Unforgivables_?"

"But they _raped_ him! They bloody raped my godson!!! No one harms Harry and gets away with it! Especially not those pathetic excuses of muggles! Let me go damn you! LET. ME. GO.!"

"_Petrificus Totalis!_" a bright red light issued from the Headmaster's wand and Sirius fell limp onto the floor. Remus heaved a sigh of relief.

"I was afraid that he would act like that," muttered Dumbledore, looking into Sirius' murderous eyes. "Calm down Sirius! The Ministry's Child Protection Council had taken the Dursleys into custody! You will only get yourself captured again if you just broke in and slaughtered them," he tried to reason with the obstinate man on the ground…but he (Sirius) refused to budge. "Besides, Harry needs all the help and support he can get. Imagine what it would be like for him if you went and got yourself killed? What if he blames himself for it? He'll be the one that suffers in the end Sirius…" At this, Sirius finally lowered his eyelids in defeat, and Dumbledore released him from the body bind.

He quickly climbed off the floor as said, "Fine…they'll live for a while more…but if I _ever_ get my hands on them, they are _so_ going to suffer!"

"Sirius…" said Remus warningly.

"Remy!" Sirius whined. "They tortured Harry! You can't possibly expect me to let them off when I see them!"

"Sirius…" Remus repeated, with that You'd-Better-Listen-Coz-I-_Know_-How-To-Make-You-Regret-It look.

"Alright alright…I'll let Harry decide what to do with them! Happy?! Now, can we go and see him?" he looked pleading at the Headmaster as he said this.

"Of course, Sirius," replied Dumbledore with a slight smile. He waited till Sirius had transformed back into his animagus form before opening the door and leading them to Harry's room in the hospital wing.

***

"I am warning you…don't get him too overexcited," said Pomfrey, before she left the men to their own devices.

Sirius immediately leapt onto Harry's chest, causing him to emit a startled and pain-filled 'oompfh!', and before Sirius could even react, strong hands plucked him away from his godson and half-threw him across the room. He looked up to see the 'Greasy-haired Git' scowling down at him, and had to suppress the urge to tackle him onto the floor. It wouldn't do to hurt that man after that truce the Headmaster had forced out of them just a few weeks before after all…

Seeing that the Headmaster had already warded the rooms with locking spells and silencing charms, he transformed back into his human form and glared at the Potion's Master. "What the _hell_ did you think you were doing? Throwing me halfway across the room like that! …" 

He would have continued ranting had Snape not interrupted, "_Black_, while I am sure that Azkaban did nothing to help your horrendous eyesight, surely even you would have noticed that Mr. Potter is currently not in the condition for being jumped on by Grims that weigh far more than he does…" All this was delivered in a smooth, silky tenor, and it left Sirius stricken with horror at the harm he must have done to his godson.

He rushed to his bedside and kneeled down beside it, muttering his apologies while stroking Harry's hair.

"Oh my god! I'm _so_ sorry Harry! Did I hurt you? Are you alright? Should I get Pomfrey to check on you? Do you…"

"I'm fine Sirius," Harry answered weakly. "Just a little…winded, that all. I'm okay, really. Madam Pomfrey just likes to over exaggerate things a little. Most of the cuts had healed already…it's just a few bruises here and there. I should be able to get out of the Hospital Wing by tomorrow."

"Nonsense! You are to stay in here until Pomfrey gives you leave, young man! And that would be a few days yet! Now, be a good boy and rest…" Remus said.

Harry looked like he was about to protest, but he settled back into bed at Remus' stern gaze and changed the subject. "So…how was your mission in Russia?"

So, Remus started telling him about their experiences, just to stop Sirius from dragging the topic back to the Dursleys and upset the boy. Soon, Sirius took over, since Remus wasn't really one for talking. He went over all the little quirks and weird things they saw, like how some cult mistook him for a real Grim and started worshipping him, or how a woman chased Remus around a whole town when she saw him 'abusing the poor doggy' when he was really just trying to help Sirius pull off some leeches stuck on his neck…(Remus retaliated by saying how a little girl had tried to buy Sirius from him, wanting the said 'cute little doggy' for her pet)

Soon, the conversation had Harry clutching his stomach as he attempted to control his laughter.

Snape stood behind the shadows in a corner, his lips almost turned up to a half-smile as he watched Harry. It had been a long time since he last saw the boy looking so carefree. And though he would rather die than to admit it, he silently thanked the two men.

Soon, it was time for them to leave. Harry looked downcast for a while, but he forced himself to brighten up, not willing to ruin the day with his mood. Sirius promised that they would come and visit as soon as they could, and reminded him repeatedly to watch his health. Remus just stood beside him, conveying all his concern and love with a simple smile.

After they had left, Harry let his mask fall. He laid back on his bed, not noticing the figure that loomed up beside him. He started when he heard that velvety voice, "Do not despair. They will come back, for they care about you. What's important now is that you recover as best you could, and ease their worries and concern. Sleep…"

Harry let the voice wash over him, soothing and comforting him like the gentle waves of the calm sea…and he fell back into dreamland…

***

TBC

(2144 words)

N.B. Siri and Remy took some language lessons /_before_/ they went to Russia…you really can't expect them to spy if they don't even understand what they were hearing do you? Also, Poppy knows about Sirius…she had to, since they needed a mediwitch to take care of him whenever he got hurt.

Incase you don't know what Hershey's is, it's a kind of chocolate…the most delicious ones I've ever tasted. My favorites are the cookies and cream one! *yum*

Kirachan – Yay! I made someone cry! Finally! That was the whole point for that few chapters you know…I feel like killing the Dursleys too…

BlackRose1356 – I have a unique style of writing? Really? I'm flattered! You just made my day! I was afraid that this would turn out more or less like other Harry abuse fics…*grins*…and I know I'm never too original in the first place. I have about zero creative juices…

Moonblade – I know my mechanics are weak. Also, I've never been good at descriptive, so I left out a lot of details. I was going to revamp the whole thing once I actually finish the fic. And about the POVs…did I really do that? Could you point out the chapters please?

Thank you all for reviewing! And thanks to all those that provided info on Siri's and Remy's hair and eye color! More reviews please! **_REVIEWS_** make me warm and fuzzy inside!


	15. Flashbacks

**Author's Note**: Bwahahahaha! Here's another chapter! At the rate I'm updating that might be a hope that I may actually finish this fic before 21st June! Aren't you all so proud of me?

I would like to thank Frankie the Wonder Wiener Dog with the website by the RCF of Wales and England. It has provided plenty of useful info that I've used here, and, perhaps, latter on. And there's also Erika, who reviewed 14 times! One for every single chapter! Wow! This chapter is for is for both of them…

A Fallen Angel 

By chibi_tenshi

Snape sat back on the bed placed to the right where Potter was sleeping. He had finally given up the struggle for his privacy inside his own rooms after being screamed awake for the past few days whenever Potter had a fit. The boy was having nightmares at an alarming frequent rate and he seemed to be the only person that was able to sooth him. It may be because of the fact that /_he_/ was the one that took him out of that hell, which would make it an entirely psychological effect. Or it may be because Snape was the only one that even vaguely knew what he had been though, which would make it more of an emotional one. None of them really /_knew_/ why, and they would probably never find out.

Back to the issue on hand, Snape had moved back into the infirmary. He had even gone as far as to transfigure a desk in one corner, complete with a comfy armchair. They were nothing overly fanciful. In fact, they were rather plain, but practical enough to suit his purpose and would allow him to get his paperwork done.

He looked back to the sleeping child. Granted, he may not have ever had the chance to /_be_/ a boy, but it was hard for Snape to think otherwise when he looked so young and vulnerable when safely ensconced in his blankets. He could still remember the little conversation they had some way back…

/_Flashback_/

They were both sitting together, enveloped in a rather uncomfortable silence when Potter spoke up.

"Professor? W-why are you still here?"

Snape just /_looked_/ at him, arching a single elegant eyebrow and replied calmly, "Why not?"

"Um…because you hate me?" the little rise in pitch at the end of the sentence made it sound more like a question.

"Whatever gave you that misconception?" Snape asked, slightly amused at Potter's ruffled countenance. 

Potter looked down at his clasped hands, as if they were the most interesting contraptions in the world. "Because you hated me since you first saw me. You were glaring at me as if I was the vilest creature you have ever seen. And because you took every chance you've got to deduct points from me and to get me expelled…though that might have been because of Voldemort…but I couldn't help but wonder sometimes…" he paused a little, looking away to the left, and mumbled an almost incoherent phrase, "and because I deserve it…"

The last bit was not meant to be heard, Snape was sure, but he had a sharper hearing then most. He frowned a little, shocked at how little self-esteem Potter had, and he felt an smothering rage welling up from somewhere deep within him at the sight of a charming, confident boy being reduced to a guilty, self-doubting mess.

"Potter, I assure you that no one, especially not you, deserved to go through what you have! And while I have never been too charitable towards you, I have never /_hated_/ you. Dislike, yes, I would be lying if I said I did not, but I feel the same towards practically every student that have ever walked through the hallways of Hogwarts. And, as you have mentioned, there was also the threat of Voldemort hanging above us. I cannot _afford_ to treat you nicely."

"I suppose…" Potter mumbled under his breath, yet again. Snape had to relax his hands when he realized that they were clenched so tightly that the knuckles had turned white. "Potter," he grounded out, trying not to let his anger show. "You. Do. Not. Deserve. To. Be. Hated," he articulated every single word for emphasis. Potter just flinched slightly away from him, the movement so small that he barely caught it. Evidently, his effort to conceal his anger had failed miserably.

He sighed, taking a deep breath before trying again, in what he hoped to be a kind, soothing tone. "Potter, I assure you that /_no one_/ deserves the life you have led, no matter how anyone has told you otherwise. In fact, you would have more reason to disbelieve it if it was that madman's words."

"Of course." At this, Harry looked up and smiled brightly at him, and they both fell back into silence.

/_End of Flashback_/

Snape knew that that smile was entirely fake. Oh, it did look real enough, and one could almost see a shine in his eyes. But this only served to show what an accomplished actor Potter was, and how difficult it would be to get him to trust anyone enough to fully open up.

It was not healthy for an abuse victim to bottle everything up inside. They would need someone they could trust; someone that could believe, and even understand what they had went through. They would need plenty of compassion, care and concern. Snape was under no illusions that he was a nice person, and he was not sure if he had the capacity for kindness. And it was quite clear, to himself at least, that he was not the most suitable candidate to be appointed as Harry Potter's counselor. Albus, as always (the man sees to it that he contradicts all his opinions and everything he says), thought otherwise, and since Snape was the only one that could bring about any sort of positive response from the boy, he was, by default, the one appointed to take care of Potter.

Of course, the fact that he had risen up to Poppy's challenge had not helped matters at all. He scowled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "In short," he thought, "I'm stuck with that Potter brat for the rest of the summer…"

Not that Potter was adverse to the idea. Come to think of it, Potter was oddly contemplative and otherwise emotionless when he broke the news to him…

/_Flashback_/

"Potter."

Potter looked up, tilting his head questioningly at his Professor.

"You would be staying in the guest room at my quarters once Madam Pomfrey declares you fit."

Potter had just nodded and turned back to stare at the ceiling.

/_End of Flashback_/

That was all. There was no protests, no questions, no demands to know /_why_/ he was being sent to live with one of his most hated Professors, a Professor that had confessed to disliking him. It was, in a way, anti-climatic. Snape had already braced himself for plenty of shouting and swearing before he had to drag Potter, kicking and struggling the whole way down the dungeons. This showed how little he knew about the boy. He wondered how much of the Potter he knew had ever existed in the first place. Potter was an enigma, one that he wanted to learn more about, despite his mind's protests at growing too attached to the boy.

Still, whether he liked it or not, he would have to spend several weeks with Potter, and he might as well start getting to know the boy now…

***

TBC

(1164 words)

N.B. You may have noticed my weird switches from 'Potter' to 'Harry' and back again. I use Potter usually when the situation was seen in Sev's POV, mainly because he is trying /_not_/ to get too attached to Harry. It would switch to 'Harry' when Harry is in trouble or in pain, as Sev's mask would slip a little and get overwhelmed by the concern and protective instinct. I also use 'Harry' when the scenes feature Harry alone or when he was interacting with Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, and, maybe, his friends later on. 

Also, I will refer to Sev with 'Snape' unless it is in Dumbledore's POV, until Harry and Sev get close enough to feel comfortable using each other's given name. 

Yap…just clearing up some stuff just in case you get too confused.

In any case, please **REVIEW**!!!


	16. Moving

**Author's Notes: **Gomen! Sorry it took me so long! 

Here's my explanation: 

Weekdays = school = loads of homework = less time to write!

And I just completed my biology test yesterday, and had to stay back in school…so I got home at eight yesterday and at nine today…*sigh*…I have /_such_/ a sad life. I just feel like plonking down on my bed. Anyway, I'm sorry again for the terribly late update! Enjoy…

**A Fallen Angel**

By chibi_tenshi

With much fuss and not a few pouts, Pomfrey finally relented and let Harry out of the hospital wing. So, after Pomfrey's routine morning examinations, Harry was walking out of the infirmary, at long last, supported by a pair of clutches under his arms because his legs were numb from long term disuse and the muscles were not working as well as they used to be.

Surprisingly, Snape had not taunted him about his current predicament, nor had he spoken any words of pity. He merely stood by his side, a comforting presence, offering the silent support and wordless understanding that Harry had so carved.

When they had finally arrived at Snape's…/_their_/ living quarters, Snape steered him towards his room. It was decorated with a red and gold theme, designed to make it look, and feel, warm and comfy. The walls were painted in a bright scarlet, with indistinct streaks of soft pink and orange at strategic locations to make it look like the sky during sunrise. Golden-yellow curtains framed the window that stretched from floor to ceiling, and was charmed to overlook the Quidditch pitch, and the Forbidden Forest further beyond. 

His bed was situated right beside the door. It was a queen-sized four-poster made of deep brown cherrywood, with an elaborate carving of a majestic griffin at the head. Harry could have sworn that the griffin winked at him when he turned to admire it. The bed was also adorned by bright red curtains, held up by golden drawstrings, and a soft velvet bedspread and a snug looking quilt, both of a lighter shade of red, were tucked in the sides of a mattress, which seemed rather soft and springy.

There was a wardrobe, a study table and a bookshelf located opposite the bed, at the far side of the room. They were made of the same cherrywood as the bed, with an added varnish that made them glitter a little in the sunlight, and were decorated with the same intricate carvings of various mythical creatures. (He was certain now the those carvings were somehow alive…)

This was the best room Harry had ever seen. The symbolism of freedom and the Gryffindor theme was not lost on him. Turning back to Snape, he breathed out a heartfelt "Thank you…", eyes wide and his lips uplifting into a shy smile, for he knew the lengths Snape had went through to install the windows in the dungeons, and that he really did not need to allow the red and gold décor in his otherwise Slytherinistic lair.

His gratitude was rewarded by a small, almost unnoticeable upturn at the side of Snape's lips, and a barely audible "you are welcome" before he was left to his own devices.

***

Harry settled on the bed (it was as soft and springy as it looked) after Snape had left, thinking over what had happened in the past few days.

Sirius and Professor Lupin ("call me Remus") had come to visit a week ago. He knew they made an effort not to remind him of the plight he was in. He could almost see them treading carefully across a tight rope when speaking to him, as if he was a fragile glass sculpture that they were afraid to break. Oh, they were subtle about it, but Harry was a master of human gestures and emotions. He could sense the tension radiating from the duo. He had seen Remus nudge Sirius in the ribs whenever he let even a hint of his worry show.

He appreciated what they were doing, but he really hated it when people treated him as if he would shatter at the slightest provocation. He was /_not_/ weak!

'Oh aren't you?' the small voice piped up at the back of his mind again. 'You let the Dursleys hit you, did you not? And you did not try to stop them, no?'

He shoved that pestering thing back into the darkest crevice he could find. He was /_not_/ weak! And he had showed them too! He made sure he laughed along with them at their jokes. He had listened, talked, smiled…he /_interacted_/ with them, though he had felt like holing up somewhere cold, dark and isolated where no one would ever find him. Not that he wasn't happy to see them though

The atmosphere in the infirmary gradually eased, and Sirius and Remus had left with slight smiles on their faces. He was exhausted when all that was over, and he could not curb the feeling of disappointment when he was left alone once more, despite his initial misgivings. He did not like being treated like a frail china doll, but he really loved them and they were all he had…

Which was why he was startled when Snape spoke up. He had forgotten that he was there. He had comforted him…it was then when Harry realized that Snape cared too…but he had been too tired to think much about it.

Now though, he had to put more thought into that…

To say that he was surprised when Snape told him about his new living arrangements was a major understatement. It had taken all of his control not to let his jaw sag in shock. He was rather proud that Snape had not noticed much of his astonishment.

He had always thought that Snape was a private person, who detested anyone that disrupted his neat and ordered lifestyle. He had imagined that Snape /_liked_/ living alone, in the quiet solitude with no one to interrupt his precious potions work. He had wondered if he was here because Dumbledore had somehow coerced Snape to take him in. It made him feel terribly guilty to think that he may be intruding in Snape's hard-earned and well-deserved summer break…

Still, the man would not have spent so much effort in decorating his rooms if he just saw him as a burden, would he? Or perhaps, Dumbledore was the one that took charge of the design?

Harry could feel the guilt and self-doubt plaguing him again. 'You are really just a good-for-nothing leech that brought trouble to others you know? You would be better off at the Dursleys. At least they made it known that you deserved every bit of abuse you got. It's entirely your fault that Cedric died after all. And you caused the death of so many others. You do not deserve to receive any sort of kindness,' the tiny voice returned with a vengeance.

Harry curled himself up into a ball again and started rocking back and froth.

'You deserve it…and you know it…'

***

TBC

(1094 words)

A/N *weeps* Poor Harry!!!

I know this is short…but it felt like it should end here…but, fear not! *grins* The next chapter is _much_ longer…I suspect it may end up to be twice the length of this one *shrugs*…I have to finish typing it out first…

Dyan – It _was_ partially from my imagination. I've added bits and pieces from other fics, and what I _wanted_ to see in other fics, but couldn't find. There are lots of Harry abuse fics out there…and I love them…the hurt-comfort ones I mean…I can't stand those with horribly sad endings – like Harry dying or something without knowing anyone cared…(no offense to any authors out there!) You can tell by now that I am a sucker for happy endings don't you? *laughs*

Erika – You are the most enthusiastic reader I've had yet! *grins*

Thank you to all those who reviewed!!! *hugs and blows kisses at reviewers*

As for those who didn't…*waves…_something_…threateningly* **REVIEW** now!!!


	17. All I've Ever Wanted

**Author's Notes**: This was a traumatizing chapter. The words just refused to come out! *growls*  I had a _most _horrible time with it. But, it did, indeed, turn out to be around twice the length of the previous chapter. So, enjoy…

A Fallen Angel 

By chibi_tenshi

Harry's POV (3rd person)

It had only been yesterday morning when Harry had moved into his new rooms, and he was already feeling quite at home here, despite the green and silver theme that prevailed throughout the entire area besides his bedroom. Snape had told him that he was to, under no circumstances, enter his (Snape's) private laboratory and bedroom. The first was obviously because of an inane fear that Harry may just blow something up without meaning to – a sentiment that Harry was quite inclined to agree with – and the second, because he wanted to maintain _some_ semblance of privacy – just because he allowed Harry into his quarters does _not_ imply that he was happy about the intrusion…or at least, that's was he had said. To Harry, this further cemented his belief that he was really just a useless burden…

Harry, of course, had followed his instructions without question, and had set about exploring the area when Snape disappeared into the laboratory muttering about some "research work". He had been expecting the place to by dark and dreary, and maybe even a little damp and mossy here and there, like the dungeons he had read about in books (A/N books, because he had never been allowed near the television, let alone the cinema). Oh, it was not all nice, warm and snug – as his rooms were – either, but it had a _homey_ feel to it, as if the place was actually _lived in_ – which it was, come to think of it, but Harry had always thought Snape spent more time prowling around the hallways rather than lounging in his couch.

The design was simple and elegant. The entrance itself was hidden behind a portrait, and though Harry hadn't had the chance to scrutinize it in detail (he dared not risk interrupting Snape with whatever sound the opening of the portrait might make), he was positive that the portrait depicted a majestic golden Griffin with a graceful silver Basilisk wound loosely around its neck and torso. Together, they made a stunning picture…and it probably was one of Dumbledore's attempts to promote inter-house relations.

At the wall directly West of the entrance was a built-in fireplace built out of pale gray cement with a carving of two snakes facing off each other at the top ledge. A fire was crackling merrily, though Harry could tell it was only for show, for he could feel no warmth emanating from it. After all, it was summer, and they would have suffocated in the heat if there were an actual fire kept going. As it was, there were probably quite a few cooling charms set to keep the dungeons cool through the worst of the summer heat (A/N I know _exactly_ how unbearable summer is. It is perpetually summer here in Singapore, and the heat these days is enough for you to fry an egg on your head).

There were two shelves framing the fireplace, stretching from floor to ceiling and from the sides of the fireplace to opposite ends to the room. The one to the left contained what seemed like hundreds upon hundreds of books. Why anyone would what to place such fire hazards next to the fireplace shall remain a mystery…perhaps there were some kind of flame-repellent charms on them. The shelf on the right was covered with a glass screen. It contained potion vials, and as Harry moved in to peer at the labels, he could see that most of them were healing potions, or muscle relaxants. He had a pretty good idea why Snape would want all these kept in the living room. He would not fancy having to go all the way to the stores after a session with Voldemort. Perhaps he could manage to…_borrow_ some of these potions without Snape noticing if he moved the vials around a bit…god knows he certainly needed them for his visions…

There was a leather sofa of deep grass green directly opposite the fireplace. A leather couch was placed at a right angle to it on the left. A coffee table, made entirely out of clear crystal sat on top of a tasteful Persian rug, sandwiched between the fireplace and the sofa. The ellipse dining table, also made of crystal, stood a few lengths behind the sofa, and six wooden chairs – complete with forest green cushions – surrounded it with mathematical precision. The door to the lab was just behind the dining table, just as the doors to the bedrooms were located opposite the couch. 

Having finished his exploration, Harry sighed and slid down onto the sofa. He looked longingly at the shelf of books. He dared not touch them…some of them looked as if they would disintegrate as soon as he breathed on them, and the shelf seemed to be dominated by Dark Arts books. He would have to remember to ask Snape for permission to read them. For now, he would just sit and stare into the middle of nowhere until Snape decided reappear for lunch…

***

Snape had commented on his laziness when he found him lying half-asleep on the sofa. His exact words were, "I suppose it would be too much to hope for, to see a Gryffindor, and a Potter at that, actually find something more…educational to occupy their time with."

Harry had just looked down meekly, and asked if he could please make use of his (Snape's) books since all of his had been burnt by the Dursleys. Snape had actually blinked at that statement, having forgotten about that particular incident, and grudgingly agreed Harry's request.

***

Harry's POV (1st person)

After lunch, Snape took me aside to explain the details of the trial.

"The Dursleys' trial will take place a week from now. It would be a public one…"

I could not help but flinch at this. "A _public_ trial?" A _public _trial, in front of tons of strangers, all listening in on my pathetic existence – all knowing about the abusing, the whipping, the slapping, the beating, the_ rape?_ All will be revealed to the public, things that I would rather shove into the back of my sub-conscious; things that I would rather forget; things that I _do not want_ anyone to know! I was hyperventilating, I know, and Snape had to retrieve a calming potion to stuff down my throat.

When the potion took effect, and I had relaxed a little, he continued, "It is a public trial, because child abuse is a very serious offense in the Wizarding world. As Professor Dumbledore had said, our population has been declining, mostly because our magic has affected our ability to reproduce. The magic of the fetus often conflicts with its mother's – as no two auras are exactly alike – which causes the mother's magic to treat it as a foreign substance and try to dispel it. This had led to many miscarriages and abortions."

"But what about the Weasleys?" Curiosity ignited, I could not refrain from interrupting

"The Weasleys are really a special exception. They had a curse put on their ancestors in the early 16th century by a rival house, which made them to procreate at a near exponential rate," Snape sneered. "It may seem to be a perfect solution to our problems, but unfortunately, this curse also has a lot of side effects, the main one being that the curse cannot be undone. You have seen what too many children could do to a family's financial welfare…" Snape scowled at me for my rude disruption. 

"As I was saying, the rate of successful births is very low, so wizards, especially purebloods, tend to cherish their young."

"The punishments involved range from being sent to Azkaban to being thrown into the magical forests to fend for themselves. It would depend on what was done to the child," he arched a single, elegant eyebrow, "and who was the child involved. With you being the notorious Boy-Who-Lived, the Dursleys' punishment would undoubtedly be harsh…" 

I think I saw Snape's eyes glitter brightly at this, as if he would love to sit back and watch the Dursleys' suffer their fate, complete with popcorn and a bottle of pumpkin juice. I could not imagine why though. It was not as if he had anything against them. Could it be because they had abused the precious Boy-Who-Lived? But I deserved it, didn't I? The Dursleys weren't wrong for doing what they did…were they?

I watched him carefully, trying to figure out what he was thinking. His face was practically a blank mask, with only slight concern and not a little anger gracing his aristocratic features. Was he concerned for me? Was he mad at the Dursleys for treating me the way they did? I could not even begin to phantom how anyone could actually care about me, just as I could not imagine how it would be like to feel cared for. Oh, there were the Weasleys and Hermione, but I had learnt to fend for myself ever since I could remember, and could never bring myself to totally depend on others, especially people not even related to me. There was Sirius and Remus too, but they were never with me long enough for me to feel safe and protected.

How would I know whom to trust? How would I know that it would not be thrown back at my face? After all, it had happened to me before…

But Snape…Snape was…different…from others. He knew what I've been through. He _understands_. He was a Death Eater. He, of all people, would know how it was like to be hurt, to be shunned, to be belittled, to be _betrayed_…

I shook myself mentally. 'Stupid fool! You should _never_ allow yourself to hope! All your dreams had been crushed brutally into a million different pieces! What makes you think that anything would change now? Idiot! You don't deserve anything good to happen to you!'

Snape was looking at me strangely. I must have zoned out for a while. I smiled slightly at him to indicate that I was fine. He was unconvinced, but continued anyway, deciding not to pursue the matter, "Dumbledore had already recorded what you had told us at the Infirmary, but you still have to turn up for the trial, in case further questioning is needed. You would be able to invite some of your friends to the trial, to give you moral support. You could tell Dumbledore about your choices come tomorrow. We have already hired a prosecutor for you. Since the Dursleys are muggles, a wizard would act as their defendant, and as Dumbledore already had one of his supporters put in place," Snape smirked, "their chances for acquittal are near zero."

"Isn't that too harsh?" I asked worriedly.

Snape had an odd look on his face. I could not decipher what it was, but it looked vaguely like a cross between shock and disbelief. "Harsh?" he snapped. "After all they had done to you? You think that might be too harsh?"

I unwittingly cowered away at his sharp tone. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

At this, he sighed and pulled me towards him. I tried to struggle away, the memories of what being pulled towards someone when I was at the Dursleys had entailed to were overwhelming me. He merely responded by holding me loosely against his chest, petting my back lightly until I had calmed down. I thought I heard him apologize, but that might have been a delusion on my part. Snape _never _apologizes.

I buried my head in his chest, savoring the bit of warmth and security it brings. I should be worried that I had come to see Snape as a comforting entity. Ron would be horrified, but I was suddenly too exhausted to care.

He began speaking again. "Potter, regardless of what you may think, the Dursleys deserve every bit of torture they would suffer in the hands of our world. You may think that you deserved every bit of cruelty they had heaped on you, but no child ever should have gone through what you did, regardless of what they may have done. People were born good, Potter, just as they were born innocent. To destroy something that sacred is blasphemy. The Dursleys had committed a crime, and they would have to sow what they reap."

I frowned in his chest. It's not true, and I knew it. I had been told often enough that everything was my fault. It could not be wrong, could it? Could Snape be correct? He had never lied to me before. In fact, he was one of the few people that had ever been completely truthful with me. He might have hid things from me – things that I had never asked, or never needed to know. But all that he had told me had been true so far; could I bring myself to trust him?

God knows I want to. I want to be able to trust somebody, to completely rely on someone else for once. But did he really mean what he said? Was he helping me because he wanted to? Or was it because Dumbledore had somehow forced it upon him? Should I really allow myself to hope?

No…no, I shouldn't…not yet. I could not take yet another betrayal. I know I would shatter if I had to endure another blow. Not yet. Perhaps, in the future, when I had recovered enough. 'No, best not think about it. Remember, you _never_ get what you wish for. All that you wanted had been taken from you. No, just don't dwell on it. Close yourself to the world. Keep up your façade. It had worked before, and it will continue to work in the future. It would hurt less that way…so much less…'

***

TBC

(2103 words)

A/N I realized I never mentioned what happened to Harry's stuff…at least, I think I didn't…can anyone please point it out to me if I did? Anyway, for the time being, they are burnt…I'll change the earlier chapters later, once I finish this fic…

Me – Sorry, but I love yaoi fics…the only non-yaoi one I'd written was for a school competition, and that was only because slash was forbidden. :P (irritating homphobes *mutters angrily*) Anyway, there are plenty of nice Snape-Harry mentor fics out there…read those! This shall remain as it was…I had made up my mind about the pairing since before I had written this fic, and I am not about to change it…(did I really make him sound like Harry's father? Well damn, bugger and darn it. I shall see what I can do about that…)

Xikum – Interesting idea…I might just use it…you don't mind, do you? *sheepish grin*

To all other reviewers…thank you for the reviews! And I'm glad you all seem to like that room! I love it too. (Mummy! Can I have that room please?) Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter too! **REVIEW**please!


	18. Nightmares

**Author's Notes: **Sigh…ff.net keeps crashing, and they won't freaking let me update! F*** them! Sheesh! Ok…calming down…right…here's a new chapter, brought to you after laborious struggles with ff.net's faulty systems. Enjoy…

A Fallen Angel 

By chibi_tenshi

Snape's POV (1st person)

I quite literally crashed into the room, all composure gone as I fell back onto my couch. I had to suppress the urge to groan as I jarred the tender nerves that were still aflame with the latest bout of _Cruciatus_ torture. Voldemort had been in a particularly vindictive mood today, when he finally got wind about Potter's previous whereabouts. To say that he was mad would be a severe understatement. He had already been livid enough when he discovered Privet Drive to be bereft of its usual occupants and filled with Aurors that few weeks ago. Finding out that Potter had actually resided there for years past only fueled his rage. I am quite willing to bet that every single Death Eater had suffered the _Cruciatus_ curse at least twice through tonight.

Just as I was about to force myself up to retrieve some pain relieving potion, I felt someone press a vial against my lips. I attempted to force that foreign substance away from me when I heard Potter's voice, "It's a pain relieving potion. I got it from your shelf. It's not poisoned…at least I don't think it is. Drink it, it should help."

Of course, being the naturally paranoid person I am, I refused to accept the potion. I turned my head away despite the person's coaxing, and heard a sigh of exasperation before feeling my head being tilted up and the potion being forced down my throat. I could not help the feeling of panic that welled up within me, and I lashed out at the person.

There was slight tinkling as the vial fell across the room – still intact because of the shock-absorbing charms on it – as well as a soft litany of…something…originating from my left. I felt my head clear as the potion took effect and was able to sit up properly without feeling like the world was being inversed in front of me. As I focused my sight on the figure huddled next to me, I could make out from the wild nest of black hair that it was indeed Potter who had fed me the potion.

The said Potter was also rocking back and froth in a huddled heap, and as I strained my ears to catch what he was mumbling, I heard vague 'I'm sorry's and 'Please don't hurt me's. Astonished (though I'm quite sure only a slight widening of my eyes betrayed that), I reached over to touch Potter's shoulder…only to have him recoil in fright and scooting to a corner.

I frowned. I had never noticed how seriously damaged Potter's emotions were. Granted, I had never made any threatening gestures towards him, but Potter had never reacted this badly towards physical contact, not since I had taken him out of the Dursley's custody. I had seen flinches and cringing, but never to such an extent.

I moved forwards and pulled Potter into an awkward embrace, ignoring the creaking of my abused joints, and maintained a loose but secure grip against Potter's struggles. "Relax," I whispered in what I hoped was a soothing tone into his ear. "You are safe. There's no one here to hurt you…"

I continued along the same vein until Potter finally calmed down. After letting go of the boy and settling him down next to me, I got up and glided (as best I could in my current condition) to the shelf to gather a few more necessary potions – including muscle relaxants, bruise medicines, blood clotting potions, etc.

As I settled back to my original position, I heard Potter murmur a brief "sorry". I raised an eyebrow and asked, "For what, Mr. Potter?"

"For breaking down like that."

I pondered momentarily on the implications on that little statement. It could simply mean that Potter was embarrassed at breaking down in front of his Professor, and that he was being his usual headstrong and insufferable self who would never admit to a weakness in front of others. It could also suggest that Potter was hiding something from us, that there was something he had not told us, something that might be the cause of his strange distress…

"He found out didn't he?"

I turned his head sharply towards the boy. "Who is _he_, Potter? And what, exactly, did _he_ find out about?"

Potter had a slightly shocked look on his face, as if he wasn't planning to voice that question out loud. He looked like he was going to brush off the question, before thinking better of it and replied, "Voldemort…he found out that I used to live at Privet Drive, didn't he? And that I am gone now?"

Whatever answer I had been expecting, it definitely wasn't this. I narrowed my eyes slightly and asked, a little more harshly than I had intended to, "How did you know, Potter?"

As Potter cowered away, I relaxed my stance, to show that I meant no harm, and Potter answered, shakily, "I saw him…"

"You _what_?!" I really couldn't help that. I cannot even begin to envision how Potter could have gotten anywhere _near_ Voldemort when he was supposed to be safely within the Hogwarts walls, much less having seen him.

Potter seemed to be trying to suppress a whimper. "I…I dream about him at times…ever since I was young. It's happening more often lately, whenever he's torturing and killing anybody. And tonight…tonight…he tortured all of you, didn't he? He tortured all of you because he found out about me. It's all my fault. You were hurt, and it was all because of me…"

Oh sweet Merlin! He blamed himself for _that_?

"Potter…it's _not_ your fault! You _cannot _blame yourself for what an egoistic maniac had done. Voldemort tortures people because he wants to, because he takes pleasure out of another's pain. It has nothing whatsoever to do with you…"

"But…but he would not even be here now if I had been more careful during the Triwizard Tournament, if I had gotten away in time. He would not be tormenting all those he could get his hands on if he had not found Privet Drive empty. I should have let him catch me…I should have let him _kill_ me! I should have _died_ with my parents!" By now, he had curled up into a ball again…as if to protect himself from further hurts.

I was shocked at that pronouncement. 'Just how damaged is he?' I wondered, as I gathered him in my arms again. "_Potter_," I said forcefully, "Don't _ever_ say that! You do _not_ deserve to die! Voldemort does. Do you have any idea how that would affect those that care about you? What would Black do if you died? Or Lupin? And there's the Weasleys, and Miss Granger. How would they feel if you were gone? Your parents didn't sacrifice themselves just so you can die with them!"

I had hoped that that might give him a reason to live. But I was wrong…I was utterly stunned when I heard him whisper to himself, "He's right, you selfish brat! All you think about is yourself! Selfish, stupid, worthless…"

Damn! He is twisting every single word I say!

"Potter! Po-Harry! Listen to me!" I shook him gently. "I did not mean that! And you are _not_ worthless! It is not your fault that Voldemort has returned." I never thought I'd say this, but, "You were brave and courageous enough to face up to Voldemort 4 times in your entire life and intelligent enough to come back relatively unscathed. That's what most wizards twice your age could never boast about doing. Stronger wizards have been killed!"

"But…"

"Harry, do I _look_ like the type that would lie about something as important as this?"

"No, but…"

"Do you trust me?"

This took a while. I could see the conflicting emotions on his face before he answered, "Yes…but…"

"Then trust me on this one. You do _not_ deserve to die. You deserve to _live_, as do every other normal wizarding child. You should not have had this terrible burden being thrust upon you at such a young age, but it was, and you took it in stride. That's more than can be said for anyone else. You deserve to live a normal life after what you have been through, so stop blaming yourselves for every other thing, because it is _not your fault_!"

He did not look too convinced, but that will have to do for now. I will work building his self-confidence at a more gradual pace, but for now…

"What did you say about the visions again? I assume they are similar to visions, are they not?" I asked, after giving him some time to absorb what I had said earlier.

"I think they are. I sort of exist in them, like a specter. I couldn't touch anything. Most of the time, I seem to see things in Voldemort's point of view, as if I am seeing through his eyes. Sometimes, I may be just hovering near the area, like a passive observer. And…" he hesitated

"And?" I prompted.

"I feel what he does…every _imperius, _every_ cruciatus,_ every _avada kedavra,_ and all those weird curses I've never heard about, like the one that shreds someone's skin off bit by bit, or the one that make you feel like you were being pulled apart along your limbs, or…" he trailed off, face pale and shivering feverishly.

I could not help a sharp intake of breath as I listened on with growing horror and alarm. How could he have experienced all that and still remain sound? Or is he already hovering along the edge of sanity? I tightened my arms around him reflexively, suddenly feeling an irrational urge to shield him from all the nightmares that are gnawing away on him, from all the terrors that haunt his everyday life. I could feel him flinch away fleetingly, before leaning back into my embrace.

And we stayed that way through the night. I know my bones are probably going to ache come tomorrow, but looking at the peaceful bundle in my arms, I could not help but think – perhaps there's hope yet…

***

TBC

(1695 words)

.

Yap, Sev found out about his nightmares, at long last *rolls eyes*. He would have known so much sooner, if he had bothered to ask…stupid insensitive git *glares affectionately (is this even possible?)*

Also, Voldemort would have to be present for Harry to have the visions. He may see it in Voldie's POV, or he may be standing in the sidelines and watching. It is important to note that Harry only feels the effects of the curses that _Voldie_ casts. He won't die, of course, with Avada Kedavra, since he technically should not _be_ there, but he would feel what it does to the victims, i.e. the sudden, extreme pain as the curse rips your soul and life-force away from your body (at least, that's what I _think_ it does…). There also won't be any physical injuries…

Another thing…in that second paragraph, Sev heard Harry's voice, but being distrustful of practically everything around him, he refused to accept the potion (remember polyjuice?)

Xikum - *grins* I have my reasons for a public trial…it kind of helps the plot get along (Gasp! There's a plot?!)…you'll see…later…

Thanks again to the reviewers *yay*…I love you all!

P.S. can anyone please tell me why the paragraphing in the centralizing function just _refuses_ to work? I'm already saving this as an .htm file! And I still lose some of the bold and italics words along the way. It is freaking infuriating, especially when a sentence loses its dramatic effect _without_ the italics function working! *argh*

P.P.S. from what I've found from the net, the OotP has two versions…an adults' one, and a children's one. But, apparently, the text is going to be the same. So…what's the point?

P.P.P.S. I just realized I'm _never_ going to finish this fic before OotP comes out…*dramatic sigh* So, I'm going to put this on temporary hiatus, read the book, _then_ either totally revamp the whole thing to fit OotP's plot, or revamp it anyway to make this thing flow more properly and treat it as an AU (as Hyperbole had said). Let's just see how it goes. *sigh again* Till then…tata! *bows, apologies and tries to avoid the rotten tomatoes*__

Right…I realize that this notes are going to be longer than the text, so I'd better stop now…*laughs*…remember to **REVIEW** people!


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